#Andrew Broom

[link-links]

in remembrance of the fact that these dorms are housed by college boys:

when andrew punched a hole through their window after the kathy ferdinand show i wonder how long it took for someone (nicky) to finally clean it up

[thesabrinatheteenagewitchblog]

Okay, so first, HAPPY HALLOWEEN from the Sabrina The Teenage Witch blog!

Secondly, I know I've said it a lot, but this time fr, we're making this blog active again! I've got renewed vigor and I want this place kicking again! Thankfully, I finally found some Sabrina stories that came out to post, so next few days are sorted!

Here's a huge recent one, a sequel to the anniversary special from last month! "Party Hardly", by Ian Flynn and Steven Butler, from Archie Halloween Spectacular #1 (October, 2024)! I quite liked it, thought it was fun! Liked seeing Brina and Juggie team up, always a great duo; Amber keeps getting more threatening; and this story that's been building for 2-3 years is just growing in intensity! Biggest arc since the Manga years!

[rainbow-femme]

One of my favorite character dynamics is when character A goes in fully prepared to dislike character B, only to slowly realize that not only do they not dislike them but they actually enjoy their company and they were not prepared for that and you get this internal “Uh oh! Uh oh uh oh uh oh!”

Bonus points if they’re both doing it and trying to hide it

[the-grave-of-andrew]

Hell yeah new progress log update

[jhsharman]

Jealousy Decades Collection

1970s retro-nostalgia for the 1890s skips to 1980s retro-nostalgia for the 1950s.

[movie-titlecards]

Viking Destiny (2018)

My rating: 4/10

Incoherent mush. The hippie commune was a surprise, though.

[whizzing-fizzbee]

This Is How It Starts

Sebastian Sallow x Reader (Female MC) (And some temporary Andrew Larson x Reader)

Rating: Explicit 18+, MDNI (shameless smut, profanity), all characters are 18+ Words: 10,402 Themes: friends to lovers, sexual tension, sexual frustration, shitty boyfriends

Summary: You're going absolutely, utterly mental. Your boyfriend, Andrew Larson, hasn't touched you in weeks and you're growing desperate. When he's unwilling to help relieve your sexual tension, your best friend, Sebastian Sallow, always has your back.

Notes: This one's mainly just some shameless smut. Characters are 18-year-old seventh years. Reader is female MC. Inspired by "Sex" by The 1975.

Read on AO3 or below the cut.

You blew a puff of air upward, hoping it would release the strand of hair that was currently plastered to your face. Sweat trickled from your hairline, over your temples and down your neck until it disappeared beneath your shirt collar.

It was abnormally hot outside, but there was no chance you were going to miss the quidditch final. It was Slytherin versus Gryffindor, a rivalry that promised a match for the ages – not to mention your very best friend was a Slytherin beater.

“Get him, Seb!” you screamed as your best friend whizzed overhead in pursuit of a bludger. Slytherin had a 40-point lead and the match was approaching its second hour of play. Gryffindor was holding its own, but its players were clearly growing weary against Slytherin’s physical and aggressive style of play. If the Slytherin seeker could just catch that damn snitch, the party could start.

Suddenly, the Slytherin seeker initiated a sharp nose dive and you screamed in encouragement. She hurtled toward the ground, two Gryffindors tailing close behind in an attempt to knock her off course. Their desperation was palpable and you feared they might knock her off her broom if she got too close to the snitch.

Sebastian was attempting to corral another bludger. You watched nervously as his eyes narrowed in concentration, his bat raised until he connected it with the bludger. It careened toward the Gryffindors, forcing them to abandon their path.

“Yes, go, go, go!” you screamed so loud, Ominis Gaunt had to cover his ears from his seat next to you. You had dragged the poor boy along to the match, despite his incessant reminders that he would be unable to see any of the action. But he was the other third of your trio and the undeniable glue that held you and Sebastian together, so you convinced him that Sebastian deserved both of your support that day.

“Go, Alice, go!” you screamed at the seeker, silently praying your housemate would come through for Slytherin. She inched closer and closer to the ground, her fist closing around the snitch with about five feet to spare.

The stadium erupted in a frenzy. You grabbed Ominis by the head, hugging him to your chest as you screamed and bounced in elation. He squawked in protest, but even he couldn’t conceal the smile that had formed across his lips.

The Slytherin team descended to the center of the quidditch pitch until they piled up in a massive group hug. You laughed as you spotted Sebastian at the bottom of the pile, his grin clear even from your seats high up in the stands.

Headmaster Black strode to the center of the pitch with Madam Kogawa carrying the quidditch cup close behind. Professor Sharp met them and motioned for the Slytherin team to gather around, where he presented them with the cup.

The Slytherins in the stands roared with applause and you whistled as loud as you could, drawing another annoyed glance from Ominis.

“Come on, let’s get down there!” you said, tugging on the sleeve of Ominis’ robe. 

“Yes, mother,” he sighed as he drew his wand, its red tip guiding him as you pulled him through the sea of students.

Once you reached the bottom of the staircase, your eyes scanned the grounds in search of Sebastian. Sad and angry Gryffindors shoved past you, coaxing a laugh from you as you continued toward the center of the pitch. Finally, you spotted Sebastian engaged in an animated chat with Imelda Reyes, who was smiling smugly while the rest of their team continued to celebrate with the cup hoisted into the air.

“Sebastian!” you screeched as you launched yourself toward the boy. You threw your arms around him and leapt, your legs wrapping around his torso as he stumbled backward to brace his balance. “You did it!” you practically screamed in his face. You hugged him tightly as more bodies clad in green flooded onto the pitch.

Sebastian offered you a goofy grin as he supported your weight, his arms squeezing you tightly so you wouldn’t slip.

“That boyfriend of yours is going to kill me,” he murmured in your ear. You drew backward slightly to give him a pointed look.

“You and I both know you’d demolish him in a duel,” you said. 

“Can’t argue with that,” Sebastian said with a shrug. He set you on your feet and draped an arm around your shoulder. “I’m going to get cleaned up and changed. See you at the after party?”

“I’ve got a bottle of firewhiskey with your name on it.”

You skipped off to find Ominis again, but were instead met by your boyfriend. He was leaning against the entrance archway of the pitch, his arms crossed as his stare followed you. You sighed to yourself and begrudgingly trudged toward him.

“Hey,” you said, your tone much more feeble compared to the shouting and squealing you’d done moments ago.

“Hey.” You could tell he was cross with you from the way his jaw clenched, though his eyes were calm and cool.

“Some match, huh?” you said cheerily, hoping you could bring his mood up rather than the opposite.

“Sure was.”

He was clearly in no mood to discuss quidditch, so you slipped your arm through his. “You okay?” you asked.

“I was until I saw you and Sallow.”

“Andrew,” you sighed, your shoulders slumping in frustration. “I’ve told you a million times, it’s not like that with Sebastian.”

“And I’ve told you a million times that I’m not comfortable with the way you two egg each other on,” Andrew replied hotly. “The way you two carry on is improper and it’s disrespectful to me. His reputation is going to ruin yours.”

Sebastian was a known flirt who had earned a reputation for his extracurricular activities with half of the girls who attended Hogwarts. He didn’t have girlfriends, though, and you secretly wondered if he’d ever settle down. As a result, your friendship with Sebastian had endured its fair share of rumors and speculation as people wondered if you’d ever venture past the threshold of platonic kindred spirits. 

“We’re just friends,” you tried, but Andrew glared to cut you off.

“Yes, I get it,” he snapped. “You, Sallow and Gaunt, Slytherin’s special little trio. But you’re my girlfriend.”

“You’re right,” you sighed, already tired of fighting. You didn’t want Andrew to feel slighted by you. If the tables were turned and some girl was climbing all over him, you knew you wouldn’t like it. 

But you and Andrew were vastly different. You were bolder, more outspoken and adventurous. Hell, you were the hero of Hogwarts two years ago when you saved the school from Ranrok. 

Andrew was more studious and reserved, a true Ravenclaw. Professors liked him, but for reasons that differed from the way they liked you. You were creative and savvy when it came to magic, whereas Andrew boasted the kind of intelligence that manifested in the form of logic and reason.

When you first started dating Andrew, Ominis and Sebastian laughed at you. They teased you like brothers, poking fun at your new boyfriend.

“Has he even been in a duel, ever?” Sebastian had chortled.

“And isn’t he friends with Puffskein Duncan?” Ominis added.

You chided them for their judgment and teasing, but Ominis, ever the prim and proper gentleman, later pulled you aside to tell you he was happy for you. He said Andrew was smart and would take good care of you, to which you snorted and reminded Ominis this was merely a teenage romance. You couldn’t see yourself invested in anything long-term with Andrew and were merely interested to see where your relationship would lead.

When you mentioned this to Sebastian in passing one morning as the two of you lounged in the Slytherin Common Room, he snickered.

“So Larson’s too dry to earn any consideration for a long-term commitment?” he mused.

"I've used Crucio on you before. Don't think I won't do it again," you warned.

"I'm just saying! Seems like he's a giant waste of time."

You huffed at him in annoyance. “While he and I likely won’t make it beyond Hogwarts, I’d appreciate it if you’d at least respect our relationship for its duration,” you scolded. 

“The only thing I respect about Larson is that he somehow managed to finesse the school’s most eligible bachelorette into dating him,” Sebastian quipped. You rolled your eyes and hit him with a sofa cushion. “But seriously, what do you see in him?”

“He’s… smart,” you replied, which merely provoked a menacing laugh from Sebastian.

“Smart,” he repeated blankly.

“And he’s creative,” you continued. “And handsome.”

“What exactly do the two of you even talk about?” Sebastian asked, leaning forward curiously. “I mean, you’re complete opposites. What do you have in common?”

He wasn’t wrong. Most students were quick to point out that you and Andrew were an unlikely pair when you began dating. But you were attracted to Andrew. He was tall and handsome with an assured smile and composure.

“Opposites attract,” you quipped. “Some balance is good every now and then.” You weren’t sure you actually believed that statement, but you were going to pretend for now.

That was six months ago and now, the inevitable end to your Hogwarts days was approaching. You and Andrew hadn’t discussed your future as a couple, but you weren’t in any rush to do so – especially since you hardly felt like a couple these days.

The upcoming N.E.W.T.s had taken priority for all seventh years. Even Sebastian had been spending an uncharacteristic amount of time studying in the Undercroft. The two of you both aspired to be curse breakers, but the most coveted positions – curse breaking for Gringotts – were limited to two.

You were a shoo-in for one of the spots, given your famed history and experience. All you needed to do was score high on your N.E.W.T.s, which you were confident you’d ace. Sebastian should have been a certain choice for Gringotts as well, but he couldn’t exactly reveal all of the research and hands-on experience he had gained while trying to reverse Anne’s curse during his fifth year without raising suspicion. 

“Are you coming to the Slytherin victory party?” you finally asked Andrew, hoping your innocent upward gaze would soften his mood.

Instead, he blinked at you. “I’m a Ravenclaw,” he deadpanned. 

The evening sky was growing darker, and you knew the celebration would be underway soon. The dinner hour in the Great Hall had nearly passed, but there would be a plethora of sweets and snacks to indulge in at the party. You were eager for an evening of frivolity with your friends, as you knew your time with them was limited.

“But you’re invited to the party if you’re with me,” you said hopefully. “You can come and stay just for a bit.”

“A Slytherin celebration has detention written all over it. I was hoping you’d join me on the Astronomy Tower instead.”

Normally, you’d die before missing a single second of a Slytherin party, especially one to celebrate a quidditch cup victory. But the party was sure to continue late into the night, meaning you’d likely have time to enjoy it later.

A trip to the Astronomy Tower was much more important now, not because you gave a flying fuck about stargazing, but because you could get laid.

It’d been weeks since Andrew had touched you, and you were becoming a restless, coiled, ticking time bomb. You were an 18-year-old with wants and needs, but your stupid boyfriend had been more concerned with his N.E.W.T.s than sex as of late.

The Astronomy Tower was a common spot for romantic rendezvous, particularly for students in separate houses. You and Andrew had frequented it much more at the start of your relationship until you introduced him to the privacy of the Room of Requirement, but some nostalgia for the sake of sex was too appealing to reject.

“That sounds nice,” you said carefully, your grip giving Andrew’s arm a gentle squeeze. “I’d love that.”

“Good,” Andrew said with a firm nod. “Shall we head there now?”

“Yes, please.” You allowed him to steer you from the quidditch stadium and back toward the castle. Clusters of students laughed and chattered around you, and you occasionally paused your route to the Astronomy Tower to discuss the events of the quidditch match with them.

As you stopped to say hello to Arthur Plummly, Andrew grunted in annoyance. He was clearly tired of waiting on you to finish socializing, so you merely waved to Arthur and continued to the Astronomy Wing. Perhaps Andrew was just as eager as you to relieve some year-end tension. The thought made heat rise through your body, flushing your cheeks.

The tower was quiet as most students were either celebrating Slytherin’s victory or licking their wounds in defeat. Once you reached the upper level and confirmed you and Andrew were alone, you grinned at him. You were already aching between your legs, desperate to be touched by someone other than yourself.

The air was much cooler at such a high point, the breeze drifting through the tower and its vacant telescopes. You shed your school robe and turned to Andrew to reach for his, gripping the front in earnest as you pulled him into a kiss. You kissed him hungrily as you stepped toward him, pressing your hips against his.

“What are you doing?” he demanded, craning his neck to break the kiss. You froze and rocked from your toes back down to your heels as you released his robes.

“What do you mean?” you asked stupidly. “I thought you wanted to-”

“No, not tonight, love.” His tone was gentle but you could see the irritation in his eyes. “I actually need to stargaze. I want to be sure I can identify Lyra in case it’s on the exam.”

You sucked on your top row of teeth to stop yourself from screaming in frustration.

“Can’t it wait, just a quick twenty minutes?” you asked.

“No, love. I’ve got to get this done.”

You knew there was no changing his mind, not that you wanted to at this point. The anticipation and desire you felt earlier had extinguished, now replaced by a sense of rejection.

“All right,” you sighed, stooping down to pick up your house robe. “I guess I’ll head to the party then. See you at breakfast?”

Andrew pressed a brief kiss to your cheek and smiled at you. “Goodnight, love.”

The trek down to the dungeons was cold and lonely. You weren’t used to rejection, but it had become a common occurrence from Andrew in recent weeks. It made you wonder if there was something wrong with you, that something had changed to make Andrew no longer lust after you. 

You hadn’t changed much physically since the start of your seventh year. If anything, certain physical attributes had improved, at least in your opinion – and the opinion of the Hogwarts male population. Your chest had filled out nicely and your curves were more evident now. If Andrew no longer found you attractive, it surely wasn’t your fault, right?

You didn’t have long to brood, though. As you neared the entrance to the Slytherin Common Room, you could feel the pulse of music vibrating through the stone walls. You smirked to yourself, ready to forget about your vapid excuse for a boyfriend for the evening.

“There you are!” Sebastian spotted you instantly as you entered the Common Room.

“There you are!” you laughed as you took in his appearance. His hair was more tousled than ever and he was holding a bottle of firewhiskey in each hand. 

“Where’ve you been?” he demanded as he ushered you further into the room. “Nevermind that. Let’s get you a drink. Who has the firewhiskey?” he called out.

“Sebastian,” you snorted. “You have it.”

“Oh. Right. Well let’s get you a glass then.”

One glass quickly turned into three, and you eventually lost count by the end of the night. Students from other houses came and went, and you enjoyed the presence of your friends and classmates.

Sebastian was the life of the party, per usual. He’d periodically disrupt the music and laughter to climb on top of a study table, his glass raised in a ridiculous toast.

“To Chinese chomping cabbages!” he declared during one toast.

“To Professor Ronen’s beard!” he said during another. Each toast was followed by a roar of agreement from the crowd, no matter how absurd, which Sebastian reveled in with glee.

You laughed through it all, especially when Ominis, who had been lurking in a corner of the Common Room as an innocent bystander, was pushed toward Imelda Reyes to dance. By their third dance, you could feel Sebastian looming behind you as he watched Ominis with delight. 

“Someone ought to rescue him,” he said in your ear. “It’s not going to be me, but someone should eventually.”

“I don’t know, he seems to be enjoying himself,” you mused. “I think I’ll take a night off from saving our poor friend from social expectations.”

Sebastian snickered and sauntered off. Your eyes followed him as he stumbled toward the stairs. You followed after him, your own inebriation stalling you as you steadied yourself.

“Sebastian!” you called after him. He spun to peer down at you as he reached the top of the steps. “Where are you going?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” he called over his shoulder as he disappeared toward the dormitories. You scurried after him and watched as he slipped into his dorm room. 

“Bailing on the party?” you asked as you shoved your way through the door. You’d been in that dorm numerous times, so the sight of unmade beds, cluttered desks and piles of books didn’t faze you as you sat on the bed next to Sebastian, who had flopped backward with his arms resting lazily behind his head.

“I’m tired,” he declared, his eyes watching you carefully. “In case you’ve forgotten, I’m a quidditch hero.”

You huffed a laugh. “I’m pretty sure Alice was the one who caught the snitch,” you pointed out.

“Ah, but she wouldn’t have reached it if it hadn’t been for my bludger,” Sebastian said proudly. You couldn’t argue with that. Instead, you rested back on your elbows, your legs dangling off the side of the bed.

Sebastian’s eyes fluttered shut and you studied him for a quiet moment. Your best friend was devilishly handsome. Though he maintained his boyish charm, he was certainly not the same kid you met at age fifteen. Now, Sebastian was tall and broad-shouldered, toned and sturdy, much more of a man than a boy.

“Want me to let you get some sleep?” you asked. 

“No, stay. I’m just resting my eyes. I’ll get a second wind eventually.”

“Sebastian, it’s after midnight.”

“Time is a social construct,” came his quick reply. You snorted and shifted your gaze to the remainder of the room. You spotted Ominis’ bed, the only one neatly made, its curtains drawn shut. As you found yourself wondering what else went on in this room, you failed to notice Sebastian’s stare.

“So where were you anyway?”

You turned to look at Sebastian, who had one eye open. 

“What do you mean?”

“You showed up late to the party.”

You heaved a sigh as the source of your less-than-ideal evening returned to the forefront of your mind. “I was with Andrew.”

“Ah. A quick little escapade before the party.”

“It wasn’t like that at all,” you said with a bitter laugh. 

“Oh? It couldn’t have taken that long. You were late, but only by a half-hour or so.”

“Were you keeping track of time?”

“More like I was keeping track of you.”

You rolled your eyes. Sebastian, ever the protector. “Not that it’s any of your business,” you noted. “But we went up to the Astronomy Tower.”

Sebastian blinked in confusion. “But I thought you said you weren't hooking up.”

You groaned in annoyance. Though you and Sebastian were open books with one another, you didn’t feel very compelled to share the intimate details of your sex life – or lack thereof – with your best friend. Sure, you talked about sex, but the topic felt a bit more suggestive when you were alone on Sebastian's bed describing your own boyfriend's disinterest. 

But the tension you’d been carrying for weeks was mounting, and before you could stop yourself, you said, “It wasn’t anything. Andrew and I haven’t… done that in weeks.”

That had Sebastian’s attention. His other eye popped open and he sat up, not bothering to mask his curious gaze.

“What do you mean?” he demanded.

“Do I really need to spell it out for you?”

“Yes.”

You exhaled slowly, averting your eyes to the dark wood floor. “Andrew hasn’t touched me in weeks.”

“And by touched, you mean…”

You whipped your body around, the sudden movement causing Sebastian to flinch as you stared directly into his eyes.

“My boyfriend. Won’t. Fuck me,” you said slowly and deliberately.

Sebastian gaped at you. It was clear he was at a loss for words, and if you hadn’t been the center of the discussion, you likely would have laughed at his dumbfounded expression.

“Well, what’s wrong with him?” Sebastian asked.

“He’s too focused on his N.E.W.T.s. He just wants to study constantly.”

“With all due respect, I’ve been pretty well focused on studying too,” Sebastian said. “But that hasn’t stopped me from enjoying myself.”

“Yeah well, that makes one of us,” you muttered.

“But you’ve… you’ve tried to- to fuck him, right?” Sebastian asked.

“Of course, I have!” you snapped, instantly horrified by your tense response. Your cheeks flushed in embarrassment. 

Sebastian, however, flashed his canines in amusement. “Merlin, Larson really does have you worked into a tight little knot,” he mused.

“It’s not funny!” you groaned as you buried your face in your hands in misery.

"You’re right, it’s not,” Sebastian said, though you could still hear traces of a teasing tone in his voice.

“If you tell anyone about this, I’ll kill you faster than you killed Solomon,” you hissed.

Sebastian barked a laugh. “I promise to tell no one,” he said. “But you really ought to take care of your… unfortunate situation. All that sexual tension is turning you rather violent.”

“Don’t you think I’d do something if I could?” 

“Well, have you, you know, taken care of it by yourself?”

“Sebastian,” you warned, warmth creeping up the back of your neck.

“I’m just saying. I doubt you’d let anyone else assist you. Use your hands.”

“These hands are going to strangle you if you don’t shut up.”

“I could only be so lucky.”

“Sebastian!”

“Why don’t you just break up with him?”

“What?”

“You said it yourself, it was just meant to be a teenage romance,” Sebastian reminded you. “But you’re an adult now. Maybe you need a more adultlike relationship with someone who’s a little more willing to satiate your adult needs.”

“Say adult one more fucking time.”

“Adult.” You threw a pillow at him and he chortled. “But seriously,” Sebastian continued. “Why are you still with him?”

“Because it’s complicated,” you sighed. “I really do care for him. I can’t break up with him just because we’ve hit a rough patch.”

“Rough patch? Darling, this is a full-blown pit of Venomous Tentacula.”

“Easy for you to say, considering you’ve never had a serious relationship in your entire life,” you sneered.

Sebastian merely shrugged. “No one worth the time and effort has become available to me,” he said.

“You’re hopeless.”

“Maybe. Maybe not. But I’m not the one refusing to fuck you because I’m fretting over some stupid exams.”

The mere notion of having sex with Sebastian made your stomach flip. He was the one boy who appeared wholly unaffected by your looks and charm, though the same could be said vice-versa. 

You hid your attraction to Sebastian well, suppressed in a secret, dark place, deeper than any repository. The only time it ever surfaced was when you were alone in bed at night, your fingers relieving yourself while your mind fantasized over the one person you couldn’t have.

“Even if I did break up with him, I’d have to start all over,” you noted. “I’d have to find someone else to get me off.”

Sebastian let out a silly laugh that almost sounded like a giggle. “Darling, please,” he deadpanned. “Like you’d have any trouble finding someone to fuck you. You could step into the Common Room right now and there’d be a line out the door.”

“You make it sound like I’m the biggest tramp to trapeze through Hogwarts,” you muttered.

“No, that award goes to Imelda.”

“Besides, I’m sure everything will return to normal soon,” you continued, hoping your tone sounded more assured than miserable. 

Sebastian eyed you quietly, which made you shift nervously on your spot on the side of the bed. The sexually charged conversation had you hot and bothered, suddenly eager to return to your own dorm room. “Hopefully, for your sake,” he finally yawned. “But Larson clearly doesn’t realize how ignorant he is. If it were me, you’d barely be able to walk anymore.”

“Sebastian!”

---

The spring air should have met your senses with peace and placidity. It was a week later and most of the Hogwarts student body was taking advantage of the weather.

Students were scattered across the castle and its outdoor areas; some lounged lazily in the courtyards while others stretched across the grass at the center of the quidditch pitch. 

You wanted to join them, but for some abhorrent reason, you were currently sitting inside the library of all places. It was hot and stuffy in there, the scent of the books and their aging pages filling your nostrils when you should have been outside enjoying the scent of the blooming flowers or the handfuls of bubblegum you’d purchased from Honeyduke’s.

But no, you were presently leaning with your elbows on one of the library’s long tables, pouting as you watched Andrew study. The two of you were nearly the only ones in the entire place, save for a few of the more recluse and antisocial students who would probably disintegrate in the sunlight anyway. 

Your gaze fell on one boy – you forgot his name – who was hours deep into a Potions book. He was thin and pale, and you couldn’t help but wonder if he was a vampire. The thought made you snort, which provoked a glare from Andrew.

You huffed a sigh as he returned to his reading. You studied him quietly and couldn’t help but smirk with lust.

Even though you were currently annoyed with him and his insistence on being a bookworm, he was so undoubtedly handsome. His sandy brown hair was parted to the side, his pretty green eyes darting across the lines of his Transfiguration book. His tall frame was currently hunched over the table, but when he sat back in his chair, his broad shoulders would rise and his long legs would stretch beneath the table.

Every so often, his brows would furrow as he mulled over the prose on the page, or he’d subconsciously chew at his bottom lip in an adorable way that made you want to climb him like a tree.

Watching him focus his attention on anything but you made you fidget and squirm. He still hadn’t touched you in weeks.

Of course, you understood that your Ravenclaw boyfriend was fixated on his studies. You took your education seriously, too, but you also recognized the importance of some self-care. A 20-minute study break to indulge in some sex wouldn’t kill you. Another day without it, however, just might.

You squeezed your thighs together, but the pressure only escalated the ache between them. You tried crossing and uncrossing your legs, but thoughts of something, anything, anyone between them were starting to consume you. 

You decided to take matters into your own hands. Surely you could turn on the charm and tempt Andrew now, in the dimly lit ambience of the quiet library. Most boys in the school would die to be in his shoes. How could he possibly resist you after weeks of abstaining? 

You leaned forward in your chair, your lips puffed out in a slight pout as you dipped your head just enough that you had to gaze upward at him with flirtatious eyes. You offered Andrew your best doe-eyed stare as you used the top of your foot to gently nudge his leg beneath the table.

He didn’t seem to notice at first, so you shifted in your seat to lean backward, puffing your chest out in hopes he’d be turned on by your breasts. The fabric of your blouse stretched taut over them, tightening as you stretched your shoulders. Your foot inched higher up his leg until you slowly dragged it downward again.

Still no response. It was absolutely maddening. Finally, you leaned forward again, your hand finding Andrew’s knee beneath the table. Your eyes swept the room to ensure Madam Scribner was nowhere in sight, your hand creeping up Andrew’s thigh until it met his groin. You slowly ran your palm over his crotch, hoping to stir his arousal.

Instead, he jerked his head up, the chair scraping loudly across the wood floor as he pushed backward from the table.

“What are you doing?” he hissed angrily.

You blinked in disbelief. Other boys would have finished in their own pants by now, but your own boyfriend couldn’t be bothered to even entertain your desires.

“Fine,” you said, pushing your own chair backward as you stood, your eyes narrowed at Andrew. “I’ll just have to take matters into my own hands. Or someone else’s.”

“What does that mean?” Andrew demanded. Your voices were rising and others were looking on in annoyance at the interruption.

“It means that if you aren’t going to fuck me, I’ll find someone who will,” you hissed bluntly. Andrew gaped at your lack of propriety, but you had no interest in pretending to be concerned for your image. “See you later.”

You stormed out of the library just as Madam Scribner surfaced to shush you. You rolled your eyes and continued on your way, making a beeline for the nearest castle exit.

Sunlight spilled across the Hogwarts grounds and you closed your eyes to appreciate its warmth. It spread across your skin, its heat exacerbating the fire that was ripping through your insides.

You weren’t actually on the hunt for the first male who would be willing to fuck. Even at your most feral, you had a little more dignity than that. You could relieve yourself of the tension in your core in private soon enough, but right now, you simply needed to get it all off your chest. You needed Sebastian.

But where was he?

He could be anywhere on a warm Saturday like this. Sometimes he liked to fly around the Highlands. Other times, he could be found socializing in the courtyard or in search of someone to duel… The Clock Tower. He had to be there.

You made a beeline for the Clock Tower Entrance and silently celebrated the familiar sight of Sebastian embattled in a friendly duel. You leaned against the archway as you watched him make quick work of Leander Prewett, ending the duel with a well-timed Expulso that sent Leander sprawling.

“Nice work,” you quipped as the duel ended and students began to disperse from the Clock Tower.

“Nothing to it,” Sebastian said as he pocketed his wand. He eyed your appearance and frowned. “What are you doing here? I thought you retired from Crossed Wands since no one could beat you?”

“Don’t fret, I’m still retired. I was looking for you.”

“At your service, darling. What’s up?”

You glanced around the room, where Lucan Brattleby was engaged in conversation with Nerida Roberts. “Not here,” you said. “Follow me.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

You led Sebastian by the hand inside the castle, your pace so quick he had to jog to keep up with you.

“Where are you going?” he demanded as you continued past the path to the Undercroft.

“Someplace private,” you answered simply.

“But the Under-”

“Someplace even more private.”

Finally, Sebastian understood. Besides Andrew, he was the only person you’d taken to the Room of Requirement, where the two of you occasionally brewed your own potions or provided Ominis with a break from your antics. You knew curiosity was clawing away at him, and your own impatience made you hasten your steps until you were at a full run. 

Sebastian chased after you, question after question spilling from his mouth as he scrambled to keep up. It was all so ridiculous, you couldn’t help but laugh as you sprinted through the castle’s halls together until you reached the stairwell toward the Room of Requirement.

“Slow down!” Sebastian laughed as you continued up the stairs. Your legs burned by the time you reached the top, but you said nothing as you approached the Room of Requirement, its entrance making way for you per usual.

“Been a while since I’ve been in here,” Sebastian said as he gazed around the room. He followed you to the sofas tucked away in the side room, where he promptly sat down and made himself comfortable. You, however, continued to pace back and forth in front of him.

You felt like a fucking cat in heat. Your mind raced at the argument you’d just had with Andrew. Was that your breakup? You couldn’t even be sure, but you also couldn’t bring yourself to care. The fact that Andrew didn’t chase after you when you left the library spoke volumes. And the fact that all you wanted was to dig your nails into Sebastian’s back and scream his name was probably the clearest indication that your relationship was over.

“What’s wrong?” Sebastian asked, his eyes weighted with concern as he watched you pace.

“Andrew,” was the best answer you could provide.

Sebastian’s eyes darkened with a familiarity you’d learned to recognize over the past three years. It was a clash of protectiveness and vigilance. “What did he do?” he demanded.

“Nothing,” you breathed hastily in an attempt to keep him calm. The last thing you needed was your best friend to hex your boyfriend, even if he was your soon-to-be ex-boyfriend. “He just… we got into an argument in the library and I stormed out.”

“What were you arguing about?”

You hovered in front of a bookcase against the wall, unsure how to broach the subject. This was Sebastian, the boy who never judged you. He was your best friend and closest confidant. He had your back unconditionally and shared your darkest secrets. How could something as unprofound as sex be such a taboo topic?

“He still won’t have sex with me,” you finally blurted out. Sebastian’s eyes widened at your revelation. Sure, the two of you had just discussed it a week prior, but that was when you were both drunk, riding the high of a post-party haze. “I can’t take it anymore,” you continued. “It isn’t fair.”

Sebastian’s smirk returned and you made a silent vow to hex him into oblivion if he dared to laugh at you.

“You’re right, it isn’t fair,” he said sincerely. “Darling, please tell me you broke up with the sorry excuse of a lad.”

“I don’t know.”

“You don’t know?”

“I told him…” you huffed in embarrassment. “I told him if he wouldn’t fuck me, I’d find someone who would.”

The laughter that escaped Sebastian’s lips was borderline alarming. He hunched over and clutched his sides until he had to catch his breath.

“Merlin, you really are a horny little minx, aren’t you?” he grinned.

“It’s not funny!”

“You’re right, it’s not. Except-” he chuckled. “–Except it is rather comical to think about the hero of Hogwarts and the desire of every boy in the school stomping around and throwing a tantrum because her sad excuse of a boyfriend can’t make her come.”

Your eyes nearly popped out of your head from his audacity. “Sebastian!” you chided.

“Don’t get cross with me!” Sebastian said, throwing his hands up. “I would never leave you unsatisfied.”  

You inhaled sharply through your nostrils. His words seemed to cloud overhead, daring you to take the bait. He sat back smugly, but you could see the uncertainty in his eyes as he waited for your reaction.

You swallowed in preparation. For nearly three years, the two of you had danced around the obvious; the whispers of “Will they or won’t they?” and the ceaseless rumors about all the things the two of you had or hadn’t done; the sexual tension that made you both straighten in your seats every time someone else dared to suggest you were more than friends; the anguishing questions you both never asked in fear of knowing the answers.

The truth was, the root of your sexual tension had very little to do with Andrew Larson. It had damn near everything to do with Sebastian Sallow.

Graduation was approaching and you had no idea what would become of your friendship. Sebastian and Ominis were set to move to London as roommates, and you had plans to do the same with Natsai. But adulthood would be different. You and Sebastian wouldn’t be a mere common room apart. And there’d be new people, new friends, new opportunities. The ache between your thighs was far deeper than the desire to know what it’d be like to be fucked by Sebastian Sallow; it was the desperate longing for a more permanent place in his life.

“Prove it,” you finally said, feigning confidence as you dared to look him in the eye.

Finally, you had managed to catch Sebastian off guard. All of these years of teasing banter and suggestive innuendo, and you finally had him pinned against a wall of astonishment. He hadn’t expected you to give in, especially in a way that managed to challenge him.

He gaped at you, a rare deviation from his typical air of self-assuredness. Your gaze remained fixated on him, cool yet inquisitive, ready to see if he’d put his money where his mouth is.

“Wait,” he finally said. “You… you really want to?”

“Why not? You’ve always been able to help me through every other trial and tribulation. Why not this one? Unless the rumors aren’t true.” You were toeing dangerous territory, teasing him while knowing damn well he’d gladly punish you for it.

“Oh, they’re true.” He couldn’t help himself. He always rose to a challenge, and you knew he’d rise to this one. But his eyes weren’t smug or even confident. They looked concerned. “So just to be sure,” he continued slowly. “You want me to… to fuck you.”

“Yes.” It was then that you realized how your chest had been heaving with every breath, a blend of nerves and lust you weren’t sure you’d overcome if you were denied again.

And to your absolute horror, Sebastian sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. It knocked the wind from you, causing the room to whirl as you searched your brain for an escape. But then Sebastian looked up at you again, and the sincerity in his eyes kept you rooted to the spot.

“Look,” he said after drawing a shaky breath. “I’m not going to sit here and pretend like I don’t spend every bit of my free time imagining what it’d be like to feel you absolutely and utterly fall apart beneath me. I spend a shameful amount of time thinking about you in ways that would positively make you want to hex me in the same way I’ve thought about hexing Larson. But you… you’re everything to me. I can’t lose you.”

What a day it had been. You entered the Room of Requirement prepared to beg your best friend to absolutely ruin you. Instead, he was confessing his love for you.

You couldn’t help but release a shaky laugh. It wasn’t the romantic declaration you wanted to respond with, but it was the most fitting and accurate reaction to such an idiotic situation.

“You mean to tell me,” you said slowly, your voice still wavering with disbelief, “That I could have been fucking you this entire time?”

It clearly wasn’t the response Sebastian had expected, because his eyes seemed to search you for confirmation, as if he was waiting for you to laugh or reveal the scene to be some kind of twisted prank. But when you maintained your serious gaze, he grinned in disbelief.

“I didn’t realize the feeling was mutual,” he said.

“Merlin, you fucking idiot,” you hissed. “Why didn’t you say something?”

“Oh, sure, because it would be that simple! I’d just waltz on up to you in the middle of dinner and tell you I’m in love with you,” Sebastian said incredulously. “Besides, you have a boyfriend anyway!” 

“I wouldn’t have that boyfriend if you’d told me! Besides, you seem perfectly pleased to fuck every other girl in the school!”

“Only because I couldn’t have the one I wanted!” The absurdity of it all made you dizzy and Sebastian sat back on the sofa looking dazed. “So what are you going to do now?” he asked.

You didn’t need long to decide. It had clearly been a day for bold declarations and daring acts. Why not keep the trend going? You decided you were going to get what you wanted.

“I’m going to fuck you until I’m satisfied, and then I’m going to go break up with my boyfriend for good.”

Before you could give Sebastian a chance to overthink another damn thing, you were on him, your legs straddling him as you mounted his lap and greedily grasped at his necktie. Your first kiss was a stunning reflection of the two of you – passionate and unrefined, not to mention stubborn as you both refused to be the first to pull away.

Finally, you relented, panting as you paused to gaze at Sebastian. You couldn’t help but snort at how positively elated he looked.

“You’re a fucking idiot, you know that?” you laughed.

“Funny, you’re the one who seems so desperate to be fucked,” he replied smoothly. It made you even hornier.

“So be a man of your word then,” you whispered. Your lips crushed against his again and you couldn’t help but rock your hips, the feeling of his erection beneath you stealing the air from your lungs. You shifted so that you could feel his hard length against your clothed entrance and it made you whimper in desperation. The heat was overwhelming.

Sebastian smirked. “You’re absolutely done for, you know that, right?”

“Shut up.” You yanked at his tie for good measure, your fingers working to loosen the knot as your core remained pressed against the bulge in Sebastian’s pants. The way his breaths became ragged indicated he would be just as ruined as you by the time you left that room – if you ever left.

Sebastian’s sweater and shirt followed his tie as you addressed every stupid little button. By the time you reached the bottom, you huffed with annoyance that was short-lived once Sebastian was bare-chested beneath you. You’d seen him shirtless a handful of times, but never close enough to touch, and touch him you did.

Your palms skimmed his chest and torso as you demanded another kiss. You bit down gently on Sebastian’s bottom lip, stirring more arousal from him. Your own shirt didn’t stand a chance.

Buttons popped and sailed around you like confetti before your blouse was discarded on the marble floor. Sebastian’s eyes roamed the new view of flesh above him, but it was clearly not enough. His hands drifted to the clasp of your bra, which snapped apart with precision and joined your shirt on the floor.

“You’re so fucking perfect,” Sebastian hissed as he palmed your breasts. He reveled in the way they filled his hands, soft and full. “Tell me what you want.”

“You know what I want.”

“I want to hear it.”

“I want you to show me what I’ve been missing. I want you to give me the best fucking of my life.”

“Anything for you, darling.”

His hands roamed beneath the hem of your skirt and your breath hitched as you could feel his warm palms inching up your thighs. A single thumb dared to swipe across your entrance, which had soaked your panties ages ago.

The feeling made Sebastian’s breath hiss. “How did you get so wet?”

“How did you get so dense?”

Your banter was meant to be playful, but Sebastian and all his primal instincts viewed it as a challenge. Though he had every intention of showing you pleasure beyond your darkest dreams, he wasn’t going to give in without some teasing too.

“Calling me dense when you’re clearly dying to have me,” he tutted. “You’ve been awfully bold for someone who hasn’t been fucked for so long.”

His fingers worked their way through the side of your panties and he groaned as they were instantly coated by your wetness before they could even enter you. You whimpered as he dragged two fingers across your folds. “That’s what I thought,” Sebastian teased at your pitiful response to his touch. 

He slipped a finger inside of you and you chewed your bottom lip at the sensation. You shifted forward, sending his finger deeper until you were desperate for more pressure.

“More,” you whined. Sebastian obliged. His middle finger joined his index and he used them to gently pump at your core, the base of his hand pressed against your clit. You were so damn sensitive already, you knew you’d unravel within moments.

“Like that?” Sebastian hummed. You nodded, too fixated on your aching cunt to offer a verbal response. Sebastian’s movements stopped. “I said, like that?” You whined in protest. “Fine. Guess you’ll have to do the work yourself.”

Sebastian’s fingers lingered inside you but held still, prompting you to rock against them. You lifted your hips and rocked downward, using his fingers in the way he’d hoped. 

He licked his lips at the sight of you fucking yourself on his fingers, his pants strained impossibly tight over his arousal. But he waited patiently as you worked yourself over his hand, your walls clenching around his fingers to earn your release.

That tender spot of flesh inside of you pressed repeatedly against Sebastian’s fingertips, the pressure building as the sounds of your slickness exposed your sinful act. 

“Oh, fuck,” you breathed as could feel the climax nearing, the peak edging to the surface of your walls until they pulsed with pleasure around Sebastian’s fingers. You moaned as you rode it out, grinding downward so that his fingers dug into your sensitive spot. Sebastian grunted as you flooded his hand, the sensation making his cock twitch with desire.

When your orgasm subsided, you slumped on top of Sebastian to catch your breath. 

“Fucking hell,” he said as he examined his coated hand. “I’m never going to recover from this.”

The admission sparked renewed energy within you as you realized the two of you were just getting started. If Sebastian’s fingers could fuck you to completion, you were anxious to learn what his cock could do.

You rose begrudgingly to your feet to slip your skirt and ruined panties off, standing naked over Sebastian, whose erection looked painful inside his tented trousers, damp from your release.

“You’re a fucking vision,” he said as he studied your naked form, his arms outstretched as they rested over the back of the sofa. 

You smirked and moved for his belt. He lifted his hips so that you could remove his pants, his boxers following suit, and you had to steel yourself at the full sight of him.

He was bigger than Andrew. You wondered if it would cause the uncomfortable pain you’d felt during your first time. You liked to think you’d had enough experience to become used to it, but your body wasn’t accustomed to accommodating anyone quite so large. The challenge of it all made your core throb with more desire.

You dropped to your knees and took Sebastian into your mouth before he could even think to protest. It was better than you’d dreamed of, smooth like velvet and far too big to fit in your entire mouth – not that you wouldn’t try.

“Fucking hell,” Sebastian hissed as his tip met the back of your throat. His hands balled in your hair and his eyes snapped shut. “This has to be heaven.”

“What makes you think you’re getting into heaven?” you asked, pausing to gaze upward at him with a smirk. 

“Fine. If this is hell, I reckon I’ll be just fine.”

Your mouth returned to work and the room fell quiet except for the sound of your lips sharply sucking against his shaft. It made him shudder.

A sharp tug of your hair made you gasp as Sebastian pulled you off his cock. You whined in confusion, but he smirked.

“Let’s give that pretty little mouth of yours a break, love,” he said. “You’re going to need it once you start screaming.”

“But-”

Sebastian held your face in his hands, a loving gesture that juxtaposed the filthy acts you were performing. “If you were anyone else, darling, I’d gladly allow you to continue. But if you keep at it, I’m not going to be able to satisfy you for long. And I want as much time with you as possible.”

It was a vulnerable admission, especially from someone as confident and experienced as Sebastian. The notion that you could absolutely ruin him with your mere mouth made you drunk with power.

“Now,” Sebastian continued as he reached for your hand to tug you closer. You rose to your feet and he peered up at you with a dreamy gaze. “What can we do to relieve the neglect your imbecile of a boyfriend has created?”

A hundred different possibilities flashed through your mind as all of your fantasies clashed at once. You’d spent hours daydreaming of the different ways Sebastian would wreck you – positions that defied physics, vile phrases that insulted the English language, sensations that left your brain a pile of mush. You wanted it all, yet in this moment, you were wholly content to simply feel him in any way he’d allow. And given your mutual epiphanies earlier, there’d be plenty of future opportunities for you and Sebastian to exert your sexual tension.

“First,” you said, your voice husky as you straddled him again, lowering your entrance until it hovered just above his erect cock. The heat made his breath hitch. “I’m going to use you until I come all over your cock.” Sebastian nodded obediently. “And then, you’re going to pin me down and fuck me until every painting in this room has heard your name.”

Sebastian swallowed. “You’re going to be the death of me.”

“Then we’re both going to die happy, love.”

The decisive moment had arrived as you sank around Sebastian’s tip, slow and steady as the sensation of your folds gliding over his shaft made you hold your breath. Sebastian squeezed your hips in anticipation as he watched you descend far too slowly for his liking. His restraint had nearly disintegrated when you suddenly dropped downward the rest of the way in one quick and fluid motion, the tops of his thighs pressed against your ass. The sudden warmth that enveloped him made Sebastian groan.

“Unreal,” he gasped as you held still in his lap, willing your cunt to accommodate him more. You were gritting your teeth the entire time you stretched around him, exploring his size with determination. 

“Fuck, Sebastian,” you whimpered. “You’re big.”

“Oh?” Sebastian chewed on his bottom lip as he smirked at you, though the rise and fall of his chest exposed his fragility. “And here I thought I’d have to measure up to that boyfriend of yours. Guess I easily fill his shoes.”

“And then some,” you moaned. You hadn’t even moved, but the mere feeling of Sebastian filling you entirely was enough to make your cunt threaten to contract. You dared to shift in his lap, leaning in closer to him. He sucked in a sharp breath of air.

“I can see why you were wound so tight now,” he said through gritted teeth.

“Good thing I have you to help me unwind then.” You lifted your hips until your cunt glided upward, hovering around Sebastian’s tip until you dipped downward again. The look on Sebastian’s face was almost as satisfying as the pressure that swelled inside of you. 

His hands roamed to your breasts, cupping one in each hand as a thumb gently stroked each nipple. “I want to play with these while you come undone,” he said.

You picked up your pace, using the head of Sebastian’s cock to ignite friction against the sensitive spot deep inside of you. Soon, the sounds of your ass smacking against Sebastian’s thighs coursed through the room as you rose and slammed yourself downward repeatedly.

Sebastian was fighting sensory overload; the erotic sounds of your skin connecting, the sight of your breasts bouncing with every movement, the salty taste of your sweaty skin when he kissed your neck. It was too much, yet not nearly enough.

“M’close,” you moaned as you threw your head back, your eyes squeezed shut as you willed your body to comply. Sebastian’s eyes drifted downward to the place where you were connected. If his cock disappearing into your cunt was the last thing he saw before he died, he’d go willingly.

His thumb pressed against your clit, forcing your eyes to snap open in surprise. “Oh fuck,” you wailed. Your bottom lip was raw and red from the way you were chewing on it, desperate to release the tension coiled inside of you. A few more swipes of Sebastian’s thumb triggered it, your shriek echoing across the stone walls as you rocked forward, holding your hips downward in place as your walls clenched and shuddered around Sebastian’s cock.

Your breaths became short, pitchy gasps as you recovered, your body thoroughly exhausted as you clutched Sebastian’s shoulders for support. He sat with his head tilted backward against the back of the sofa, his eyes clamped shut from bracing himself through your orgasm. His lap now held a puddle of your release and he didn’t bother to hide his arousal from the vulgarity of it all. 

Once you caught your breath enough to speak, you uttered a faint laugh. “I really hope this isn’t a dream I’m going to wake up from,” you said. 

“I don’t know,” Sebastian mused, his hands rubbing gentle circles over the tops of your thighs as he gazed at you with fondness. “Personally, I’d stay and live in this dream forever if I could.”

He placed a featherlight kiss on your eyelashes and for a moment, you nearly forgot that you were currently wrapped around his twitching cock. But as Sebastian shifted uncomfortably beneath you, the pressure returned to your core.

“Now,” he said, his hands placed flat against the small of your back. “Let’s make sure you never think about that useless boyfriend ever again.”

He rose, lifting you from the sofa as you wrapped your legs around him for support. He couldn’t help but kiss you, his way of making it clear he was strong enough to hold you in such a position for future engagements. Once he placed you gently on your back, he crawled between your legs, resting back on his heels as he studied your form.

“You have no idea what you do to me,” he said as he gripped his own cock. 

“Show me.”

He was on top of you instantly, one hand supporting his weight while the other guided his cock back to your entrance. He sank inside you again and groaned at the return of your warmth. No one else would ever compare to it and Sebastian was sure he wouldn’t want them anyway. Not when he now knew how it felt to have you entirely.

“One more time for me, love,” he said with a thrust of his hips. “You look positively stunning when you come.” You tightened your legs around him to signal your insatiable hunger. 

“Harder,” you ordered. Sebastian would have been a fool to defy you, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t make you earn it. 

His hand snapped to your wrists, pinning them above your head as he bucked his hips for emphasis. The motion rippled through your body, forcing a moan from your throat. “Say please.”

“Please,” you whimpered.

“With feeling.”

“Please.”

“You’re so pretty when you beg.” He pulled his cock out so that only the tip remained against your cunt, swiping it over your clit as he licked his lips at the moisture that clung to it. “So fucking wet for me, too.”

Before you could protest, he dipped his head between your legs to drag his tongue over your raw entrance. It plunged inside your folds and trailed to your clit, where Sebastian’s mouth gently sucked until you kicked your feet from the overwhelming sensitivity. 

He slowly crawled back to meet your face, planting a swift kiss on your lips. 

“I’m going to love you forever, you know that?”

“I do now,” you breathed. “And the feeling’s mutual. Now shut the fuck up.”

Sebastian pushed his cock back inside you with less restraint this time. It drove deep within your walls in repeated jabs, the sound of your bodies clapping together with each thrust. 

The moans that fell from your lips sounded more like a howl as you clenched yourself around Sebastian’s cock in a frantic attempt to draw one more orgasm from it. He held a palm against your chest, pressing you downward into the sofa cushions as he rocked hard against you. 

Andrew had never fucked you this hard and you knew you’d never recover from it. There was no returning from a frenzied fucking like this, especially when the only person you’d ever loved was responsible for it.

You cried Sebastian’s name as his cock pounded your cunt, fervidly coaxing your walls to release. You could feel them begin to spasm as they gripped Sebastian’s hard shaft until they finally convulsed, the pleasure eliciting a guttural cry from you. Your entire body responded this time, your back arching and legs quaking as the orgasm rippled through you until you were left squeezing your thighs together in an attempt to prolong its final flutters.

You were absolutely fucked out beyond ruin, and Sebastian’s reward surfaced quickly. The sight of you so drained, so satiated by your undoing, confirmed that he was entirely lost in you. He was yours now and he’d be damned if Andrew Larson or any other brainless oaf tried to claim you ever again.

“Fucking hell,” he choked as he continued to rail his cock inside your tired cunt. “Ready to be mine?”

You nodded, still aroused by the anticipation of Sebastian finishing inside of you. Another moan escaped your lips and Sebastian grunted, forcing his cock hard into you as he spurted his release. It painted your insides with warmth, signaling the end of your romp, Sebastian’s labored breaths marking the final moments of his climax. 

Your eyelids were heavy as you became hyperaware of just how worn out your body was, but all of the tension you’d carried for the past few weeks was gone. You were relaxed now. Sebastian had certainly delivered on his promise.

When you let your eyes drift open again, you realized he was still above you, gazing at you with renewed affection.

“All right?” he asked. You offered him the prettiest smile you could manage.

“What do you think?”

“I think you ought to go break up with that boyfriend of yours.”

“Sebastian, you’re literally still inside me. Do you really think I’m concerned with anyone else right now?”

“Oh. Too right, you are.” He was lingering, and you weren’t sure if it was because he was tired or because he wanted to prolong the moment. Whatever the reason, you were in no rush to part from him. He seemed to be studying you, and you recognized the familiar tells that he was deep in thought, like his furrowed eyebrows and slight pout.

“Anything you care to share with the class?” you murmured. 

“It’s just that… I mean, you and I-” Sebastian struggled for the right words. “This wasn’t a one-time thing, right?”

“I fucking hope not.”

“Good. Because you’ve absolutely ruined me for life.” 

Finally, he drew backward and straightened, offering you a hand to help you to your feet. Your eyes fell to your crumpled shirt on the floor and you heaved a sigh. The buttons were gone, the threads that held them shredded and torn beyond Reparo.

“What the hell am I supposed to do with this?” you whined as you held the shirt up to show Sebastian the results of his impatience. He looked far too smug for your liking.

“Guess you’ll just have to wear mine,” he said with a shrug. He bent down to pick up his sweater and tossed it to you. “Too hot for me to be wearing this anyway.” You slipped it over your head, its large sleeves swallowing your arms, the initials “S.S.” embroidered in green over your left breast. It smelled like him – warm and woodsy. Though it was far too big for you, you decided you’d never give it back.

“I look ridiculous,” you huffed. Sebastian, however, beamed at you with pride.

“You look fucking sinful,” he declared, his grin revealing his glee.

Once you were both clothed, albeit visibly disheveled, you slipped from the Room of Requirement and descended the staircase.

“Hungry?” you asked Sebastian as you reached the lower level of the Astronomy Wing. He nodded but you frowned as he veered in the direction opposite the Great Hall. “Where are you going?” you asked as you clung to his arm.

Sebastian glanced sideways at you and smirked, taking in the sight of you in his oversized sweater, his initials marking his new territory. 

“I believe we need to make a stop in the library first.”

[darkmarkmarauder]

Don’t make me choose - S.S.

Pairing: fwb!Sebastian Sallow x you

word count: 3k angst; complicated love, seb as quidditch captain

Inspired by: back to friends by sombr

“how can we go back to being friends

when we just shared a bed?

how can you look at me and pretend

I’m someone you’ve never met?”

You hadn’t expected it to be an issue.

For the past month, things with Sebastian had been easy—entirely physical, completely unserious. No expectations, no rules, no awkward post-coital confessions. Just you, him, and whatever empty classroom or abandoned corridor you could disappear into before anyone noticed.

So when you’d been paired with Andrew Larson for your Potions project, you didn’t think twice about canceling on Sebastian. The first night, he hadn’t said much—just rolled his eyes when you told him, muttered something about taking care of things himself. The second night, he seemed more irritated, he wouldn’t have admitted it—probably never would—but the empty space in his bed that night was heavier than usual. He’d had to wrap his own hand around himself, eyes shut tight, imagining the way you’d moan his name. It wasn’t the same.

Not even close.

I mean it wasn’t like you were dating.

But then, the next time you were together, sprawled out on his bed with the scent of sweat and sex still heavy in the air, Sebastian finally said something.

You were pulling your shirt back over your head when he leaned back on his elbows, watching you with a lazy smirk. “So, you and Larson, huh?” You blinked at him, half expecting him to say something filthy, to make some joke but there was an edge to his voice, a tightness to his jaw.

“Yeah?” you said slowly, gathering your skirt from the floor.

“Just funny, is all,” he mused, stretching out, his fingers trailing idly over his stomach. “That you’ve been ditching me for him.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “It’s a Potions project, Seb.”

“Sure.” His tone was light, sarcastic, but something about it made your stomach twist. “Just don’t go making a habit of it, yeah?”

It was a joke. Obviously. Right? But you couldn’t stop thinking about it. and when Quidditch practice rolled around and Sebastian was suddenly all over you, you realized maybe it wasn’t just a joke.

You were out of breath, sweat clinging to your skin, fingers clenched tight around your broom as you hovered in the dimly lit Quidditch pitch. The rest of the Slytherin team had already started landing, some muttering to each other as they stole glances your way. But Sebastian? He was still circling above you, his presence unmistakable, predatory.

You exhaled sharply, dropping to the ground, feet hitting the dirt with more force than necessary. Already in a shit mood from a long night of studying, before you could even turn, his voice cut through the air—sharp, laced with irritation.

“Nice of you to join us,” he said, arms crossed, broom balanced against his hip. “Must be nice to take a few days off.”

You clenched your jaw, are you serious—he was doing this here? now? he was doing it in front of the whole fucking team?

“You know why I wasn’t here.”

“Do I?” He tilted his head. “Because from where I’m standing, it looks like someone’s been busy.”

A few of your teammates snickered.

Asshole.

You set your jaw, fingers tightening around your broom. “If you’ve got something to say, Sallow, just fucking say it.”

Sebastian’s eyes darkened. The taunt in his voice turned sharp, dangerous.

“You’re a starting Chaser. You’re expected to be here. So unless you want me to bench you, I suggest you sort out your priorities.”

That. That was bullshit.

Your blood boiled. He knew exactly why you hadn’t been at practice. He was making this a problem.

“As captain,” he drawled, pacing in front of the gathered players, “I expect more from my team.” His sharp gaze flicked pointedly toward you, his lips curling in a smirk. “Some of us have been a little preoccupied lately.”

You clenched your jaw, gripping your broom a little tighter. “Oh, fuck off, Sebastian.”

The team audibly reacted—low whistles, but Sebastian didn’t budge. His broom hit the ground with a dull thud as he stepped closer, forcing you to tilt your chin up to meet his gaze.

“I just expected more from you,” he said. “Considering I’m the one who made you good enough to be here in the first place.”

That did it. Your jaw clenched, and Sebastian lived for the flicker of annoyance in your eyes.

“Remind me again, Captain,” you shot back, voice dripping with sarcasm. “Does it really bother you that I missed practice, or are you just pissed because I didn’t spread my legs for you this week?”

A murmur rippled through the team. Ominis groaned, his hand pinching the bridge of his nose in disappointment. Imelda looked between the two of you like she was watching a particularly thrilling match.

Sebastian’s grip on his broom tightened. You knew what you were doing—baiting him. You wanted him to snap. But he wasn’t going to give you the satisfaction.

Instead, he just leaned in close enough that only you could hear. His breath ghosted your ear, his voice a low, teasing drawl.

“You and I both know,” he murmured, “that if I wanted you on your knees, you’d be there in an instant.”

You clenched your jaw. “What’s your problem?”

Sebastian arched a brow. “My problem? I don’t know, maybe it’s the fact that my best Chaser has missed two practices this week. Do you even care about this team?”

Your fingers curled into fists. He knew why you weren’t there. He knew damn well.

“You’re being a dick,” you muttered under your breath.

“What was that?” His voice was loud, drawing more attention.

You clenched your jaw. He was doing this on purpose. Getting under your skin. Making you react.

So you didn’t give him the satisfaction. You plastered on a fake smile, tilting your head. “Nothing, Captain.”

“Are we here to practice, or are we here to listen to you whine?” you said sweetly, reveling in your defiance against him in front of his team. But he didn’t respond. Just turned, barked out an order for the rest of them to start warm-ups, and turned back to you.

Sebastian stood tall, arms crossed, watching you with the same look he gave first-years who thought they could duel him and win.

“Ten laps around the pitch. Fast.”

“Are you—”

“Now.”

You scoffed. “You’re not serious.”

“Oh, I’m very serious.” The amusement returned to his face, sharp and cutting. “Since you missed practice, you’ve got extra work to do. So here’s what’s going to happen: you’re going to run drills until I say you’re done.”

You rolled your eyes. He was enjoying this—abusing the fact that he was Captain, working you harder than the rest of the team just to prove a point. You knew exactly what he was doing. Pushing you, testing you—trying to get a reaction.

So, you gave him one.

Whispering a hex under your breath, you flicked your wand just as Sebastian moved to mount his broom. His foot caught, sending him stumbling forward, barely catching himself before face-planting into the pitch.

You grinned as laughter bubbled out of you, tossing a smug look over your shoulder as you took off. “Oops.”

The glare he shot you was scorching. “You think that’s funny?”

“Extremely,” you called back, effortlessly weaving through the sky as you began the drill he’d assigned. You were showing off now, flying with ease—years of his grueling training paying off.

Sebastian recovered quickly, launching himself into the air and closing in behind you. “Keep laughing, sweetheart.” His voice was dangerously low, but you could hear the grin in it.

You rolled your eyes. “I will, thanks.”

He chased you through the course, pushing you to your limits. And you loved it. The thrill of the wind whipping through your hair, the rush of adrenaline as you dodged, twisted, dipped through rings of golden light. You were fast, but Sebastian was faster—always had been.

"Is that all you’ve got?" you taunted over your shoulder, dodging a sharp turn as he closed in. Sebastian grit his teeth. He had trained you too well, and now you were using it against him.

But—

You got too cocky.

You cut a little too close to the goalpost, trying to show off, and your broom wobbled beneath you. You gasped, body tilting dangerously forward, nearly slipping—

Sebastian was there before you could hit the ground.

He dove fast, his arms locking around your waist, catching you with ease. Your broom spun away, abandoned as he pulled you onto his own, pressing you flush against him.

He was too warm, his chest solid against your back, the heat of his body sinking into yours as he steadied the broom with one hand and held you tight with the other.

"Fuckin’ hell," he breathed, voice dark with amusement. "That was embarrassing."

"Shut up," you muttered, your face burning.

Sebastian only grinned, his lips brushing against your ear. "Maybe if you actually showed up to practice, you wouldn’t be so shit."

You groaned, letting your head fall back against his shoulder. "Oh, sod off, Sallow."

"Mm," he hummed, angling the broom into a slow descent. "Yet here you are, clinging to me like I’m your bloody savior."

You hated that he was right.

You hated the way your body melted against his, the way your heart was still racing—not just from the near fall, but from him. But you refused to let him win.

So, as he landed smoothly on the ground, you shoved at his chest, untangling yourself from him before he could say anything else.

"Appreciate the save," you said flatly, brushing dirt off your uniform. "But next time, piss off." You unwrapped your gloves taking them off before rolling out your shoulders trying to shake the lingering feeling of his touch.

“Piss off?” he echoed, taking a slow step closer. “That any way to thank the man who just saved your life?”

You could see it now—the way his fingers curled into fists, the muscle in his jaw twitching. He was pissed. Not just annoyed. Not just teasing.

“What exactly is our problem?” He bit out, voice low. You scoffed, shoving past him, “You don’t own me. I can study with whoever the hell I want.”

Sebastian snapped, stepping back like he needed the space. “You’re right. Doesn’t matter who you spend your time with.” His voice was flat now, distant. “Just don’t expect me to sit around waiting for you to figure out what the fuck you want.”

The words landed heavier than they should have. Like he was saying something else entirely.

And the worst part? You had no fucking clue how to respond.

You hadn’t meant to storm straight to Sebastian’s dorm after practice, but somehow, you ended up in front of his door anyway, fists clenched at your sides. You could still hear his words looping in your head. Don’t expect me to sit around waiting for you to figure out what the fuck you want. Like what kind of bullshit was that?

Your knuckles rapped against the wood before you could talk yourself out of it.

The door swung open almost immediately, and there he was—hair damp from a shower, black shirt hanging loose over his lean frame.

Sebastian leaned against the door, arms crossed, watching you with narrowed eyes. "Can I help you?"

You didn’t answer, just stared him down, walking in like you had every right to be here, like you weren’t the one who had stormed in uninvited.

He huffed out a laugh, but there was no real amusement behind it. "Oh, if you’re here to fuck—yeah, I decided we’re not doing that anymore."

You arched a brow. "That so?"

He nodded, smug. "Mhm. You’ve got Larson now, yeah? So have fun with him."

You should’ve been irritated. Should’ve snapped back at him for acting like that was what this was about. But instead, a slow smile curled at your lips.

Because there it was.

Clear as day.

Jealousy.

His smirk faltered. "What the fuck are you smiling about?"

You just shrugged. "No fucking? Fine. Let me crash here, then. I’m tired."

Sebastian blinked. "You’re tired?"

"Exhausted, actually." You moved past him again, already pulling your hair out of its clip, shaking it loose over your shoulders.

He was still standing by the door, clearly trying to piece together what the hell you were doing. "You have your own bed, you know."

You didn’t answer. Just wandered over to his wardrobe like you owned the place, grabbed one of his shirts, and started changing right there in front of him.

His eyes were on you the entire time.

You felt them.

Dragging over your bare skin, lingering as you pulled his shirt over your head, the fabric swallowing you whole.

He let out a sharp exhale. "You’re unbelievable."

You turned to him, all innocence. "What?"

His jaw flexed. "You know what."

You just smiled again, crawling onto his bed like it was the most natural thing in the world. "If you’re not gonna fuck me, then at least make yourself useful and turn off the lights."

For a long moment, he didn’t move. Didn’t speak.

And then, finally, he sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. "Fucking hell." he turned away, dragging a hand through his damp hair before muttering, “Fine. Do whatever you want.”

You watched as he stalked toward the other side of the bed before turning the lights off, slipping under the covers stiffly, back turned to you.

Oh, he was furious. and you loved it.

Minutes passed. The room was silent except for the steady tick of the clock on the wall. You let the tension simmer—just enough to make him think he was winning—before you shifted, rolling onto your side, your breath ghosting against the back of his neck.

"You really think Larson would fuck me better than you?"

Sebastian's entire body went rigid.

He didn't answer, but you caught the way his fingers twitched in the sheets—caught the sharp exhale through his nose. You smiled against his shoulder, letting your lips brush bare skin.

"Don't worry," you whispered. "I'd never let him."

His breathing quickened. You could feel it—how close he was to snapping—how badly he wanted to flip you over and remind you exactly who you belonged to. But he was stubborn. He always had been.

"You done?" he muttered, voice low and tight.

You traced lazy circles against his arm, nails dragging just enough to leave faint red lines.

"Mm. Not yet."

"Figures."

Another minute passed. His whole body was tense but still, he didn't touch you. Fine. If he wanted to pretend he didn't care—you'd make him suffer for it.

Your fingers slipped lower, trailing down his side—so light he probably would have convinced himself he imagined it if not for the way his breath caught in his throat.

"Sebastian?"

He didn't answer.

"You really done fucking me?"

Nothing.

But you felt the mattress shift beneath you—felt him tense as your fingers dipped under the waistband of his sweatpants, nails scratching lightly against the muscle there.

"I don't think you are."

A sharp breath hissed between his teeth, but still—nothing.

God, he was so predictable.

"You know what's funny?" you whispered, lips brushing his ear. "I think you're more jealous of Larson than I am of Poppy."

You waited for the snap, the inevitable fire that always came when you pushed him too far—but it never came. Instead, he exhaled sharply, tilting his head back against the headboard. “Go to sleep.”

You blinked. “What?”

His eyes dragged back to yours, dark and unreadable. “You heard me.”

A scoff left your lips before you could stop it. “That’s it? That’s all you have to say?”

“Yeah,” he muttered, shifting next to you as though he was suddenly over it. “I’m not doing this with you tonight. So either go the fuck to sleep or get out.”

A huff of annoyance left your lips as you flopped onto your back beside him, arms crossed over your chest. “You’re such a prick.”

He didn’t argue. Didn’t say anything, really. Just turned onto his side, facing away from you like this was nothing, like your very presence wasn’t making his pulse hammer against his ribs.

You glared at the ceiling for a long moment before shifting onto your side, staring at the back of his head.

“Seb,” you whispered.

Nothing.

“Sebastian.”

Still nothing.

You pouted. “Can we cuddle?”

“No.”

You hmph’d. “Why not?”

“Because.”

“That’s not an answer.”

“It’s the only one you’re getting.”

You sighed dramatically, curling into yourself as you shivered beneath the sheets. “I’m cold.”

No response.

“Seb.”

Silence.

You frowned, your eyes narrowing at the back of his neck before a mischievous smirk curled at your lips. Slowly, you shifted beneath the blankets, pressing your icy feet against the bare skin of his calves.

Sebastian jolted violently, a sharp curse ripping from his throat as he recoiled. “What the fuck?”

You giggled, pressing them against him again. “Told you I was cold.”

“For Merlin’s sake—” He groaned, rolling onto his back and throwing an arm over his face. “You’re fucking insufferable.”

You just grinned. “So can we cuddle?”

His hand dropped from his face, head lolling toward you with an exasperated glare. But he didn’t fight it this time. Instead, he shifted slightly, his left arm lifting just enough to make space for you.

“Come here,” he said softly.

Your heart gave a traitorous little flutter as you immediately scooted closer, pressing yourself against his side. His arm came down over you, tugging you into his warmth.

The heat of his body was intoxicating, the scent of his skin grounding. He let out a heavy sigh, fingers threading into your hair, smoothing it back as he stared at the ceiling.

“Better?” he murmured.

You hummed in response, pressing your cheek against his chest.

His heartbeat was steady beneath your ear, And for the first time, you allowed yourself to fall asleep in his arms. The sound of his breath filled your mind as you drifted off, unsure of where the lines between you and Sebastian began or ended anymore.

But that was the point, wasn’t it? Don’t make me choose.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

a/n: and the crowd is..confused? Tbh I have no idea what they are😭

ᴅɪᴠɪᴅᴇʀ ᴄʀᴇᴅ: @ꜱᴛʀᴀɴɢᴇʀɢʀᴀᴘʜɪᴄꜱ

MASTERLIST

[creature-wizard]

Info For Beginner Witches!

This is basically a masterpost for content relevant to new witches. A lot of it of it's stuff I wrote but I'll also link to material written by other people if I think it's useful.

Practice & Technique

Magical Correspondences 101

Closet Witchcraft: How To Get Witchy When You Can't Come Out Of The Broom Closet

How To Practice: Divination With Dice!

An approach to deity/entity work for the sort of people this sort of thing would work for

Manifestation Without Woo (a compassionate psychological approach to manifestation)

Non-Competitive Affirmations

No, you can't tell anything about a person from their natal chart.

A Brief Introduction to Energy Work

Energy Work On The Body: Hittin' The Right Spots For Tension Relief

Research & Critical Thinking

Information Literacy Basics

How to research

Distinguishing Fact, Opinion, Belief, and Prejudice

Critical Thinking: Definition, Examples, & Skills

Caution & Critical Thinking In Divination

10 Questions To Distinguish Real From Fake Science

Search for information on any witchy topic here!

"A weird thing just happened, does this mean anything? Is it an omen?"

Practicing discernment: Some ways of testing and ruling out the mundane

Research Tip: Remember the Five W's!

How conspiracy peddlers and cult recruiters make you feel like you're "thinking for yourself" when you're actually not

Remember a Previous Life? Maybe You Have a Bad Memory

Why fighting pseudohistory matters

Scams, Hoaxes, Conspiracy Theories, & Cults Everyone Should Know About

On people who assert "things are done this way for a reason!"

Dogmatism is not the solution to cultural appropriation

Some beliefs you might have to deconstruct as an ex-Christian

How the "divine feminine" and the "divine masculine" perpetuate patriarchy - and what we can do about it

Avoiding Harmful Stuff & Staying Safe

Recognizing the difference between real history and pseudohistory

Is the spiritual person a conspiracy theorist? A list of red flags

List of red flags to watch out for when joining a coven or online group

Beware of charisma mirrors

When your right to say no is entirely hypothetical

Dog whistles and symbols to watch out for

Eugenicist and bioessentialist beliefs about magic

What is spiritual eugenics?

Toxic Individualism In Modern Witchcraft

New Age beliefs that derive from racist pseudoscience

The Ancient Astronaut Hypothesis is Racist and Harmful

Allyship does not mean seeing yourself as worthless

The rules about responding to call outs aren’t working

History

Debunking the Pervasive Myths About Medieval Witch Hunts

Debunking Myths About Easter/Ostara

Just How Pagan is Christmas, Really?

The Origins of the Christmas Tree

No, Santa Claus Is Not Inspired By Odin

Why Prehistoric Matriarchy Wasn’t a Thing (A Brief Explanation)

Why Did The Patriarchal Greeks And Romans Worship Such Powerful Goddesses?

No, Athena Didn't Turn Medusa Into A Monster To Protect Her

Who Was the First God?

Were Ancient Civilizations Conservative Or Liberal?

PODCAST RECS - Debunking and Fact-Checking for Witches & Witchcraft Spaces

Angela's Symposium (YouTube channel about modern esotericism and witchcraft by Dr. Angela Puca)

ESOTERICA (YouTube channel about the history of Western esotericism by Dr. Justin Sledge)

ReligionForBreakfast (YouTube channel about religion run by Dr. Andrew Henry)

Let's Talk Religion (YouTube channel run by Filip Holm, lots of Islamic content but also lots of other stuff)

OceanKeltoi (Norse Heathenry)

Jackson Crawford (Norse Heathenry)

Conservation & Ecology

The Migratory Bird Treaty Act, Explained (all USian witches should read this, it most likely affects you)

How the Rage for Sage Threatens Native American Traditions and Recipes

(This post is unrebloggable because I plan to use it as a reference post to link, and may add/remove things to it over time.)

[sparxyv]

Mousey Student ID 💙🐭

NOW 😏 time for Mousey's official introduction.. get ready for another huge infodump! (this one's even longer than Milena's I'm so sorry 😭😭)

Template by @kiwiplaetzchen !!! (Thank you again 😙🫶)

Family

Mousey is the youngest of four brothers. Clyde, Lachlan, and Magnus.

His three big brothers have long since moved out of the McGregor house, going on to become very successful each in their own ways. They were all sorted into Ravenclaw, and were all part of the Ravenclaw Quidditch team at some point in time.

Mousey's mother - Florence McGregor (née Prewett) - is Leander Prewett's father's sister (so Leander's aunt lol). She was sorted into Gryffindor!

Mousey's father - Fergus McGregor - was sorted into Slytherin when he attended Hogwarts. Naturally, he is very prideful and ambitious - oftentimes (accidentally) placing pressure on his sons to pursue things that are not in their interest to impact the family legacy in a meaningful way. Fergus genuinely cares for his sons, he's just unaware of the effect his words have on their psyche. 🙁

Fergus McGregor was a keeper for the Montrose Magpies for 3 years before Magnus was born, and after that he decided to settle down for good. Quidditch was his passion, and he was ecstatic when all his sons shared the same love for it.

The McGregors have resided in Irondale for generations! They have a quite small house for a large family - but fret not, it's bigger than it looks on the outside.

Mousey is 5 years younger than the brother closest in age to him - Clyde - while his three older brothers are each only about two years apart from each other. This feeds into Mousey feeling like an outcast in his own family. (Clyde - 20, Lachlan - 22, Magnus - 24)

Life Before Fifth Year

Growing up, Mousey had always been an exceptionally anxious AND impulsively loud child, so he found it was a miracle he made friends with Anne Sallow during his first week at Hogwarts. Anne was always terribly kind to him, helping him out when he needed a shoulder to lean on, giving him lots of encouragement - which he so desperately needed. Anne, being extremely mischievous, self-confident, and empathetic, she made the perfect best friend for Mousey.

Mousey wasn't exactly a permanent addition to the Sallow Twins and Ominis' little group, but they would hang out with Mousey more often than not. Up until fourth year, they were practically his only friends. (We'll get to this in a bit.. 😙)

In order to impress his father - Mousey started training on a broom as soon as he first attended Hogwarts, but his heart was only half in it. Although he was very talented with a broom, it was never a true passion of his.

Speaking of Mousey's true passion - he is deeply fascinated by wandlore/craft. Ever since he recieved his first book on wandcraft at the age of seven, he quickly became entranced by it. Mousey absorbed all the information he possibly could and constantly visited Ollivanders in Hogsmeade in his free time once he was allowed to by the school.

Sometime at the start of fourth-year Sebastian and Mousey got into a HUGE argument that quickly ended their friendship. After this argument occured, Sebastian practically banned Anne and Ominis from speaking or interacting with Mousey in any way out of sheer pettiness 😒. Mousey was heartbroken. While he would swear up and down it did not affect him, he genuinely loved Sebastian, Anne, and Ominis.. losing their friendship was difficult on him. Although, sadness quickly turned to anger and he held a big grudge against Sebastian. After the big fallout, he vowed he didn't need them - immediately going on a quest to make as many friends as possible. And ultimately, he did.. but it never felt the same.

Relationships

Like Milena, I'm planning on creating a separate series of posts going more in-depth with his relationships w/ characters - so take this list of his closest friends!

Ominis Gaunt

Anne Sallow

Milena Chase

Amit Thakkar

Everett Clopton

Andrew Larson

Samantha Dale

Duncan Hobhouse

Garreth Weasley

Leander Prewett

Eric Northcott

Poppy Sweeting

Arthur Plummly

Unnamed Students

Personality

MBTI - ENFP-T

Alignment - Chaotic Neutral

Mousey is a complicated type of extrovert. He grew up constantly fighting for attention - he learned quickly that he needed to be loud and to stand out to be seen. Mousey is the type of person to only want a few close friends, but a large circle. He loves socializing with everyone, typically coming off as very cheery and playful, yet more snarky + sarcastic with people he's more comfortable with. However, he's also very anxious. He's quite the overthinker - yet never exactly thinks ANYTHING through at the same time. He's the epitome of impulsivity.

In addition to him being anxious - Mousey cares too much of what other people think of him, especially the people he loves/looks up to. He finds himself constantly trying to impress his friends and family because he craves external validation to feel good about himself.

Mousey is very sensitive, but can oftentimes be seen as apathetic when it comes to heated moments. He's very much controlled by his emotions and feelings, which has put a strain in a lot of his relationships. Mousey feels emotions more intensely than most of his peers, his mood also being affected by the people around him. (Although when he's not blinded by his own feelings, he is actually very sweet and caring person. 😞)

If there was one word to describe Mousey - NOSY. As a Ravenclaw, he's obviously inclined to want to know as much as he can about anything. With that being said, he's a NASTY gossip. Mousey knows everything about everyone, always around and listening in the background.. 😊

Just like how it is in other parts of Mousey's life, he feels that he's an outlier in his Hogwarts House. Other than being curious and passionate about learning, he isn't as clever as other Ravenclaws - not great at riddles, oftentimes having trouble even entering the common room. So he tries his best to make the best of it, befriending his housemates, joining the quidditch team, etc.

When it comes to being active, he can make an exception for Quidditch - for his father - but other than that, he HATES physical activity. Unfortunately he's a bit on the cowardly side as well. He could be reckless and get a burst of confidence, but in general Mousey is terrified of dueling, sharp things, large creatures, and especially cats. You wouldn't usually catch him out in the Forbidden Forest, or in any of the hamlets far from Irondale.

Additional Fun Facts!

The only people who don't refer to him as 'Mousey' would be Ominis, Imelda, and Milena - all for different reasons.

Mousey actually likes his nickname, not minding it one bit - although, he doesn't remember how he got it.. but even the teachers have called him Mousey since his first year.

He used to have very prominent buck teeth up until he was 13, having them magically fixed (by Anne Sallow) after his big brother Clyde had made fun of them.

Mousey is the Ravenclaw Quidditch Captain and Keeper in sixth-year! 💙

Other than Sebastian, his nemesis at Hogwarts is Charlotte Morrison (whom Milena actually made friends with???). She just really irritates him in a way he can't describe. The feeling is mutual.

He is very close with a lot of the teachers, most notably Professor Fig and Professor Garlick.

Mousey makes wood-carving animals representing the people he loves, and keeps them in his dorm. (Some would be: Ominis - Bat, Anne - Fox, Sebastian - Snake, and the newest addition.. Milena - Eagle 💜 I like to imagine Mousey came to terms with his and Milena's friendship at one point and secretly made her little animal to keep 🥹) No one knows the meanings behind the animals but him. They are his to keep and to protect.

Bi icon 💙💜🩷

Had a crush on Adelaide Oakes in third-year. (his type is blondes I guess?)

Was nearly sorted into Slytherin, but the hat changed it's mind at the last second.

Raphael is the only feline that tolerates Mousey. (And vice versa)

Knows about the Undercroft.

[getocurse]

Dissecting harry and tom.

My headcanon of harry's height and physical appearance (I know it's been done too many times already but hmm sshhh).

James potter was considered tall by voldemort. The male average height by the 1970s - 1980s was 5'10" (courtesy of a Google search and reading a few articles). If he's tall, I hc him as 6'1" by the age of 21.

In the books, harry grew up a lot after 15 and stood as tall as his father at the age of 17, which indicates that harry was a late bloomer.

His food intake is not consistent. He was not given proper portions as a child. At Hogwarts, he had plenty of food but often neglected his food intake out of stress. His friends encourage him to eat by sending him food and molly fussed over his diet.

Even without proper nutrition, harry stood at james 21 years old height at 17. What could Harry's height be when he grows up more?

Harry has an active lifestyle from the start. Running away from his bullies and training for quidditch.

Quidditch practice and drills are not the usual gym weightlifting and excercise. There's a general idea in fanon that a seeker is of slight build which is contrary to Cedric diggory who was athletic and fit. As a seeker, harry needs to train his entire body to go as fast as he can, dodge bludgers, dive sharply, pull up his broom at the last minute and hone his reflexes.

His firebolt was very responsive to him and harry felt like it was an extension of himself. But he would've had to use his own strength against the g-force. No matter how responsive the broom is, ultimately harry is the one controlling it.

So harry probably had a toned body. Not muscular ofc but something close to Andrew Garfield in the Amazing Spider-Man. Not with visibly bulky muscles but wiry and lean.

After the war, harry would have more time to eat. He had his auror training, which could've involved more intense physical training with a proper regimen. He might've developed muscles with this and a better diet.

Harry's attractiveness is not described but he's implied to be quite the looker. He inherited Lily's almond eyes, his father's hair. His eyebrows are similar to james but his nose is smaller. His face shape might be a combination of both. As he grows up, his face would be more and more defined. Lily was gorgeous and james was attractive.

He had girls giggling around him, trying to ask him out for the yule ball and he dated the prettiest girls in Hogwarts. Parvati, cho and ginny were all described to be really pretty by the boys.

Now why am I playing the same record again? Because of the tomarry ship. Harry is so very often shown as the delicate, malnourished boy. Especially in the tomarry fandom. But he doesn't stay the same small and skinny boy forever does he?

The entire story revolves around Harry's growth.

Really, boys grow up. Especially a late bloomer like harry would definitely grow more. I've seen the tiniest boys around me shoot up like bamboos and it's very common among men to keep growing till they're 21.

Coming to physical strength, harry is pretty damn strong even by 17. He tackled his opponents, threw punches on draco enough to get banned from quidditch and wrestled his enemies. My most favourite of all is that he choked a grown man, pulled him upto his height and held him there in one hand. So, he's strong.

Personality wise, harry is a very complex character.

He grew up in a household shushing him. He's not the stereotypical talkative, brash and loud gryffindor.

He's in fact described to be brooding in general; more and more when there's impending doom. Only the readers get insight into his mind but the characters around him see him differently. He appears cold and closed off to the general population. Only with his friends and his chosen family, he's a bit vulnerable.

Harry is very discrete with his own emotions. He bottles up his feelings and is shown to be embarrased and aversive to emotional vulnerability. He cringed when cho cried. But he comforted his friends as best as his emotionally stunted mind could. So he's awkward with words and emotions.

His anger runs cold. He's described to speak coldly when angry. But when he's too frustrated and stressed, he lashes out with his words. Grabs and shoves people. He yells and throws objects. Specifically the scene in Dumbledore's office was heartbreaking. Because it was the culmination of all his rage, stress and sadness, just exploding.

Harry had some of the best retorts and comebacks. He's witty and has a charmingly dry humor. But it's not for humor, so much as a defence mechanism. He shows his sense of wit from his childhood to the final battle, where he engaged voldemort in a verbal fight too.

How loving was harry? He cared for his loved ones in wierd ways. He's not used to the love languages we know and it shows a lot. He understands people's situation and feels empathy for them but doesn't really know how to deal with their feelings. He offers reassurances and support when he can though.

So I find it really heteronormative and self insertive to constantly only show him as the same small boy. With the conventional trope of skinny bottom and big strong top. If that's your thing, it's your artistic rights and I have nothing against it. I only wish there was more canon appearance and traits though.

The usual brand of tomarry depicted with tom or voldemort being bigger is totally opposite to canon

Voldemort is described as tall and unnaturally thin. His height is frequently mentioned. I hc him as something around 6'3". So an experienced and mature harry going back in time would be of similar or the same height as tom riddle/ voldemort. Physically harry would be much stronger though. Tom's appearance is said to be gaunt and thin. Because tom was not the atheletic type (yes he flew but I rather think it was out of frustration with his first broom lessons) and he's depicted growing thinner and skeletal. In the resurrection scene, voldemort says he got his old body back meaning his appearance was a gradual descent over the course of his life.

Coming to Harry's courage, recklessness and his slytherin nature, Harry is so interesting. He's saddled with so many responsibilities but his resilience is his most brilliant virtue. No matter what, he survives.

What I don't like with tomarry is when harry is an utterly helpless child. Against all odds, harry survived. By circumstances, deus ex machina, convenient coincidences, or his own actions and strength, he was the victor through it all.

Voldemort was terrified of his prophecied enemy, enough to kill a small baby and constantly try to kill the kid again and again. His 16 years old horcrux screamed in terror when harry struck his diary, his adult self screamed in both rage and fear against harry in many instances. Contrary to the usual trope of harry shrieking and screaming in the fics, it's actually voldemort who does that a lot in canon. He's highly dramatic too.

The power imbalance tilts in the favour of voldemort too much in many fics. But they're equals. They are the antithesis and the parallels of each other. Why is this not portrayed more?

I don't mean it as a dark vs light, evil vs sunshine, dark lord vs cinnamon roll, manipulative tom vs oblivious harry, slytherin heir vs golden boy.

No I want the canon harry, who was so intuitive, perceptive, observant, charming, leading, talented and hardworking!

In magical power, voldemort was more experienced and had so much brilliance.

But harry had raw desperate power. His life is a constant motion of do or die. His magic doesn't work in the ways other's does. He's shown as incredibly powerful. He's capable of wandless magic, he doesn't really use his incantations properly in some scenes, his wand responds to him so well and his magic was definitely on par with tom riddle. He didn't need finesse or style. He didn't have to be showy. He's doing everything out of survival.

One scene I like is when Dumbledore who's growing weak after drinking that nightmare potion said he's not worried because he was with harry.

Not to mention by the end of the story, harry is the master of death. It's kind of implied that he might've been the MOD all along though.

Harry was a leader. He didn't want to be, but he was. People looked up to him. They had a sheep mindset flailing here and there but the acknowledgement of harry was always present. His words and actions had power and harry did wield it. He didn't shy away everytime. He knew his role.

He's the symbol of hope but not the paragon of light. He used crucio twice (bellatrix for killing sirius and some death eater for spitting at mcgonagall) and imperioed many times.

Another thing is Harry's love and empathy is blown upto astronomical levels. Harry's ultimate power was love but that was his parents' sacrifice too. It powered him and was the driving force.

Does that mean harry felt love, pity and empathy for every little thing and saved the world for it? Little bit yes. But I mentioned that harry kept a very close circle right? He cared for others and protected them yes, but it was all out of duty. He's not exactly a cinnamon roll. He's not forgiving. He's violent, has thoughts of harming and hurting people when looking at his enemies, even had such thoughts about Dumbledore. He was harsh to his own loved ones. Yelling at them, using blunt and cutting words in rage.

His feelings about murder is very clear. He's not scandalized about killing people. He didn't feel guilty about killing quirrel at 11 or the death eaters. He is a morally grey character. He knew that murder was a part of war. He was willing to put someone else in peril for his gains.

His mind is intuitive. He's also calculating and manipulative. He lies a lot, scares his uncle, scares his friends, takes the ultimate action in many situations, knows when to go with the flow, know how to try and get the best of any situation.

He's not flawless, but has many. He doesn't have a 2d personality. The layers he has and his complexity is what makes him so interesting to me.

His soul is described to be pure. But how pure is his mind after all he went through? Was he ever really as innocent?

Would such a person really submit himself to his tormentor? Harry would have more leverage on an equal foot. He'd be just as stubborn and brilliant as voldemort. He is an asshole, he is manipulative and cunning too.

The EQUALS part was the biggest factor which drew me to tomarry.

Hmmmmmmm. Hmmmmm. Hmm.

It changes the usual dynamics of the ship doesn't it. I want more of this take please please please.

It's the biggest reason why I prefer top harry or switching fics in general. I'm not much of a fan of bottom harry whose character doesn't align with canon. That's just me though. I don't have anything against bottom harry, but it's just not my thing. If the story doesn't mischaracterize him, I'll read it. Because this is fiction. Nothing to hold against anyone's expression of own interpretations.

In my head though, harry with his strong arms and skinny monster voldemort/ tom is delicious.

The amount of potential here is enormous.

[thesabrinatheteenagewitchblog]

Sabrina and Harvey in a topical tweet by Archie Comics

[ilovecookies12]

Yandere Head Chef x Chubby reader

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Note:This is My first time posting one of my stories here in Tumblr so hope you like it, And if your under 18 Years old PLEASE DO NOT READ THIS, but if you are above then your free to read.

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Warning: Swearing and mention of NSFW

Chapter 1

“(Y/n)! Oi!” Shouted By a Man On his 40s, preparing the order a customer just ask for, his Face scowled in annoyance as he sees you cutting the vegetables into horizontals not Sideways Like he ask for, “Are You stupid or something? How the Fuck are you going to make a normal curry with this shit” He stated, taking your hands off Your work and continue to show you how to properly cut it, “like this, hope your small Ass brain Could Fit this Information” He scowled, Walking back To the order before setting it To The waiters window.

You were (Y/n) an 19 Year old Collage student who took the Course Of culinary, Hoping to be a chef one day, So you decided To take The job as an Kitchen Porter hoping to gain Some insights on how To handle a kitchen, Well you were Expected to do Task all around the kitchen by helping on miscellaneous things That Keeps The kitchen Running, You were not supposed to be helping a chef to prepare food especially the head chef, However he keeps insisting that you should help him, It was Weird how he ask for you specifically always, having 10 Different professional chefs in the Same kitchen but still he chooses you, Others Might find it weird but for you was Quite the opposite, You find it as a great opportunity to learn things even if his Words might hurt you sometimes.

A girl with bright curly hair approach you, a smirk hiding in her face, nudging your shoulder as she whispered “bet that old guy really want a taste of a girl like you”, you gaze upon her with disgust, “did something ate your Brain or your just having a fucking Aneurism, Girl that man just insulted my work and your saying he has a Thing for me” I whispered, taking the Broom next to her.

She was the sous chef aka your friend since you came here, you could simply describe her as a hardworking, kind hearted and a little bit crazy, She keep Shipping me with The Head chef, saying things like age is just a number or She approved on being the aunt for our wedding, Her name was Isabella De La Cruz, A Filipino OFW who became a resident after marrying the owner of this restaurant, talk about luck.

“like for real, the way he looks at you is different, I know that man for 5 years and it’s the first time I see him Be this Close and even choose someone to help him” she whispered, Leaning over you, who was currently sweeping the floor while she was helping a new Fry chef how to handle the deep fryer, you rolled Your eyes, “Just do your job” You muttered, Finishing your Task.

As the night Progress, Customers flood in, you never really notice how Andrew the head chef, Looks at you, his gaze roaming around your form as you help the others diligently never once complained how they treated you especially him,

You were different.

Just like the first time he laid his eyes upon you, a working student that he expected to be sensitive and always tired same with the others who resigned the job you were taking, he thought that your not going to last for a week but his mistake, You were still here for about a year now,

The way your curves fit perfectly with that white uniform, Your hair were frenzied in a ponytail, You were somewhat glowing in his gaze, he never experienced such things before especially the part were his heart skipped a beat whenever you stepped closer to him or when you accidentally touch his hands during your task, he likes the feeling of it.

That’s why sometimes he’ll find a way to somehow feel your skin Against him by asking for you to aid him during preparations.

He also liked seeing your expression whenever He speak degrading words at you, imagining how would you react as he fuck you behind, smacking that thick ass of yours while your juice soaked his dick inside.

A perfect wife for perfect man like him.

[egypt-museum]

"The history of Egyptology is often told as yet one more grand narrative of powerful men striving to seize the day and the precious artifacts for their competing homelands. But that is only half of the story. During the so-called Golden Age of Exploration, there were women working and exploring before Howard Carter discovered the tomb of King Tut. Before men even conceived of claiming the story for themselves, women were working in Egypt to lay the groundwork for all future exploration.

In Women in the Valley of the Kings: The Untold Story of Women Egyptologists in the Gilded Age, Kathleen Sheppard brings the untold stories of these women back into this narrative. Sheppard begins with some of the earliest European women who ventured to Egypt as travelers: Amelia Edwards, Jenny Lane, and Marianne Brocklehurst. Their travelogues, diaries and maps chronicled a new world for the curious. In the vast desert, Maggie Benson, the first woman granted permission to excavate in Egypt, met Nettie Gourlay, the woman who became her lifelong companion. They battled issues of oppression and exclusion and, ultimately, are credited with excavating the Temple of Mut.

As each woman scored a success in the desert, she set up the women who came later for their own struggles and successes. Emma Andrews’ success as a patron and archaeologist helped to pave the way for Margaret Murray to teach. Margaret’s work in the university led to the artists Amice Calverley’s and Myrtle Broome’s ability to work on site at Abydos, creating brilliant reproductions of tomb art, and to Kate Bradbury’s and Caroline Ransom’s leadership in critical Egyptological institutions. Women in the Valley of the Kings upends the grand male narrative of Egyptian exploration and shows how a group of courageous women charted unknown territory and changed the field of Egyptology forever."

— Women in the Valley of the Kings: The Untold Story of Women Egyptologists in the Gilded Age, by Kathleen Sheppard

[psithurista]

approach shift - epilogue

pairing: Peter Parker x f!reader (TASM/Andrew Garfield version) length: 2.3k rating: explicit 18+ warnings: PIV (protected), sneaky little non-descriptive pegging reference, disGUSting fluff

Peter Parker is a weirdo. A hot, distracting, irritating weirdo. And you can’t afford distractions right now. So there’s only one thing to do.

a/n: I'll keep it quick: I'm so sorry this took so long, but I just wasn't quite ready to finish it off haha. It's been two years almost to the day since I started writing this (and they've been fucking crazy years) so it feels very strange saying goodbye to these adorable losers. I once again can't even start to express how happy it's made me seeing your reactions to this fic, and I'm endlessly grateful to everyone who took the time to leave a comment or reach out to say hi. I hope you like this last sweet little snippet! x

series masterlist

SIX MONTHS LATER

“We need to get up,” you say, making no move to do so.

He turns his face from where it’s smushed into the pillow to speak, his eyes still closed. “You first.”

You groan. 

You have no idea what time it is, and your phone is out of reach, but the light through the curtains is blinding like near-noon and Bear’s supposed to be here at 10 to pick you up, so you’re almost definitely cutting it fine.

“Peter.” Your legs are tangled with his, his thigh between yours. He huffs morning breath sleepily into your face in response, reaching a hand out to pat your cheek. 

“Shh.” He shifts, pressing his thigh harder between your legs, skin sticky on skin. You know he’s doing it on purpose; he knows exactly where he’s pressing you. You make a quiet, satisfied noise, then pull away regretfully. 

“Bear’s gonna be here soon and you need to be dressed. She’ll freak if she has to see your ass again.” 

“Mmm. Yeah. I’m up.”

You sit up, and the slow weight of his arm slides off your waist. The bedroom door is open to the living room where you can see the debris left over from your at-home date the night before: the bowl still on the couch with a handful of unpopped kernels still rattling in the bottom, the fairy lights web-stuck across the ceiling still glowing gently and the blown-out candles stuck in pastel wax puddles to the coffee table you’d rescued from the curb a few weeks after moving in together. It’d been unbearably funny watching Peter’s elaborate performance of pretending to struggle under the weight of it on the way back home.

He drags himself out of bed, and you hear the coffee machine gurgling while you start pulling out clothes.

It’s hot and stuffy; the air’s stopped working again sometime in the night, so you screech the window open and prop the broom handle under the frame to keep it there. It’s a precarious solution—more than once, the window’s fallen shut while you’ve been at work, forcing Peter to awkwardly perform a frantic outfit change behind the dumpster in the alley so he doesn’t run the risk of running into one of your neighbours in the elevator. But the rent’s affordable for a pair of research scientists with a dash of supplementary freelance photography cash on the side, and the occasional bags of free food from a grateful shop owner after a thwarted hold-up.

“Should we call about the air?” you wonder out loud through the open door.

 “Don’t worry about it, it’ll be quicker if I just get up on the roof and fix it again myself,” Peter says, his voice stretching out into a yawn halfway through. He appears in the bathroom doorway, still naked, two mugs in his hands. 

You gasp in appreciation as he passes one to you. “God, I love you,” you murmur, taking a sip.

He grins dazedly at you in the mirror, his cheeks flushed. “Is that all it takes, huh? A crappy cup of coffee?”

You turn and slide the mug onto the counter so you can wrap your arms around his waist. “No. You’re cute, too. That helps.”

He kisses you, his thumb and index finger framing your chin. “M’not cute,” he says against your lips, leaning his too-warm body along yours. “M’intimidating as hell. Ask anybody.”

You’d only gotten as far as underwear before he’d interrupted you dressing, and it already feels like there’s far too much in the way between you. “You’re gonna make me late,” you say, reaching down to dig your fingers into the taut swell of his ass. “Gotta get ready.”

“Okay, so keep getting ready,” he says, mouthing at your neck. “You’re the one groping me.”

He’s right; now you’ve started, you can’t seem to stop. You press your hands to the small of his back, drawing him closer. You can feel his cock beginning to harden where his body is pressed against yours, and his tongue comes out to touch at your pulse. He makes a tiny noise in his throat as you slip one hand down between your bodies to wrap loosely around his rapidly-growing erection.

You stroke him once, gently, and he huffs. “I don’t see how this is helping,” he says. 

You hum your response, your resolve melting away as he strokes the back of his knuckles down your spine, making you shiver. “Maybe…” you say.

He ducks his head to kiss first one breast, then the other, your nipples standing hard and sensitive. “Maybe?” he prompts. His fingers brush your hip, coming around to rest just below your navel.

“Maybe, if we’re quick…” you say, biting your lip, pushing your hips upward to try to encourage his hand lower.


“Babe, I can be so quick,” he says, half-groan, half-laughter. He thumbs your labia, spreading you open just a little, so he can touch your clit. “Too quick, even, if you want. Some would say it’s a talent.”

You grin at him, letting go of his cock. “Bed. Now.”

He swings you up into his arms so fast your head spins, practically flinging you onto the bed. 

You sprawl out in front of him, your arms thrown back as he peels your underwear off. “Holy shit,” he says, running his hands down your sides, staring at the expanse of your body. His jaw is slack with longing, and the sight of his adoration never fails to make fresh heat flood your face, even after seeing him staring at you like this so many times.

He kneels down over you, sucking two fingers into his mouth as he does. You hitch your knees up to give him a better angle, and he gently presses a firm thigh between your legs. “How do you wanna…?”

“Condom,” you tell him, running your fingers through his hair, making his eyes roll closed with pleasure. “No mess.”

He holds your lower lip gently between his teeth, and slowly pushes his two slick fingers inside you. You shift your hips up, and he withdraws them both again, using the slip of your arousal to work against your clit. He kneels up a little, so he can palm your breast with his other hand as he bends down to lick the inside of your thighs.

“Oh,” you breathe. His fingers stop circling to push back inside you, just as his tongue works a hot, messy kiss over your clit. You grab handfuls of his hair to try to keep up with the pace he’s setting, but the feeling of your fingers against his scalp only makes him work faster, a weak groan vibrating down through his tongue.

He bends his head lower, so he can lick around where your wetness has started to gather on his knuckles as he keeps pumping leisurely, in and out. It’s so wet you can both hear it, and he works faster, angling his fingers higher, until you’re writhing.

“Peter…come on, please,” you beg, yanking hard at his hair. 

It works to break his concentration, and he scrambles up, leaning down sideways so he can dig around in the bottom drawer of the nightstand. It’s filled with an assorted mix of toys and, stashed further back, Peter’s wrist canisters. The logic had been that anybody who broke into your apartment would be too freaked out by the toys to keep looking in the drawer, but it also meant Peter had to dig through a dizzying array of plugs and lube every time he went out.

You turn your head to the side and see the wistful way he glances at your strap-on, and you click your tongue. “We’re in a hurry, remember? Later.”

“Mmm. I’ll hold you to that,” he says, kissing you again as he rolls the condom smoothly over his cock.

He leans back, propping a pillow under your hips to give himself more leverage. As he sinks inside you, you hold your breath, letting it out slowly.

He groans above you, easing just a millimeter out and then back in, like he can’t help himself. It feels devastatingly good; he’s thick and beautifully hard right against where you need him, and thanks to his mouth, you’re wet enough that you’re ready for him to start moving immediately.  

You hook your ankles together behind his back to pull him in deeper, and he sinks home, fully seated balls-deep inside. You clench your muscles, just to feel as much of him as you can, and he grinds his hips against yours. 

You can feel the tension in his limbs as he draws back and starts to move. You’ll never, ever get sick of how he feels inside you, you think, your mouth open. He’s fucking you so good; his strokes long and firm and perfect.

He cups your ass with his hand to lift your hips even further, shifting the angle once again, and your breath stutters sharply in your throat as the head of his cock catches your g-spot.

“That’s it, right?” he murmurs, his voice wrecked. “Right there? That’s it, babe, c’mon, show me, I wanna see…”

You can’t even respond, your fingers gripping his biceps like his body is your only lifeline. It’s so good, and you’re getting so close, you just need…

“Fuck,” you gasp, high-pitched and panicked as you come, hard and blinding. 

He doesn’t slow down. If anything, he fucks you harder, chasing down his own release as you clench and melt around him. It only takes a few more moments before his cock jerks inside you and he curses, collapsing the hot weight of his body on yours.

You pant together, sweaty and spent. His cheek is crushed to yours, and he turns his face just enough to kiss any part of you he can reach—the top of your shoulder, your forehead, the tip of your ear.

When you manage to drag your eyes open, you find his huge doe-brown eyes already looking at you. “Good?” he whispers, kissing your shoulder again.

You smile at him, feeling drunk and dizzy. “So good,” you tell him.

You’re still wrapped up in each other like idiots when he jolts hard as though startled. You’re confused for about half a second, before the buzzer from downstairs goes off. 

“Oh, shit,” you hiss, scrambling out of bed.

“You get ready,” Peter says, somehow already dragging on a pair of sweatpants. The speed and dexterity with which he’s able to dress never ceases to amaze you. “I’ll stall.”

You’re stepping out of the fastest shower of your life when you hear the squeaky door to your apartment opening.

“Hey, Bear,” Peter’s voice says.

“Hey, Parker. Your shirt’s inside-out,” she says. 

You lean the naked top half of your body around the bathroom door to wave at her. “Hey, sorry, I just got out of the shower. I need like, three minutes to get dressed.”

She clicks her tongue, but doesn’t look overly annoyed as she flops onto the couch. “It’s hot as shit in here,” she says cheerfully, swinging her feet up onto your coffee table. 

You can hear her and Peter chatting as you hurriedly get ready; he asks her about Krista, she asks him about his aunt. Unsurprisingly, Bear and May had hit it off in a huge way at your birthday after May had excitedly demanded to know everything about the play Bear was auditioning for.

You give yourself a quick once-over to make sure you look presentable before you duck out into the living room. Peter and Bear have moved onto once again arguing about music; Peter’s on Blur’s side, Bear’s on Oasis’. 

You give them both a sideways look. “I’m not getting involved in this,” you say, checking to make sure your keys are in your bag. “But I’m just saying, in a real fight, Liam Gallagher would kick Damon Albarn’s ass any day of the week.” Peter grins at you from behind the counter, where he’s attempting to clean the disaster left in the kitchen from dinner last night.

“Oh, my God,” Bear says, looking you up and down. “Why do you look so worked up? Were you guys just fucking? Like right now?”

 Peter can’t turn away fast enough to conceal his snort, and you make a face at her. “It’s called caffeine. Come on, we’ll be late.”

Peter waves at her. “Say hi to Krista.”

“You should come with us, next time you get a night off work,” Bear says, helping herself to a stick of gum from the packet on the bench.

“Bye,” you say, leaning in to wrap your arms around Peter’s waist. “Be careful,” you add quietly, leaning up to kiss him.

He grins. “Always am.” He kisses you back, slow and gentle, before letting you go.

Bear shakes her head. “You guys are so gross. Later, Parker.”

Peter trails you to the door so he can close it behind you. Bear’s a few feet ahead of you, and you don’t mean to linger, but you can’t help but look back one last time as you go.

Peter’s leaning in the door, a dish rag over his shoulder. His hair’s chaotic from where you’d run your fingers through it, and his cheeks are still a little pink with warmth. 

As you watch, his eyes crease at the corners. “Love you,” he mouths, too quiet for Bear to hear. He still has the cutlery in his hands he’d been drying before you walked out; two knives, two forks. 

You can feel your face splitting into a smile you’re sure must be even goofier than his. You hold his gaze, and as Bear drags you away, you’re missing him already.

[girl-named-matty]

Hogwarts Legacy characters and my first impressions of them pt.1

Semi-in order of when you meet them.

Eleazar Fig: Cool guy, seems to care a lot about me so that's nice.

George Osric: This guy is TOTALLY the villain. Why would he just come out of nowhere and be acting so weird and like he doesn't want anyone else to hear what he has to say? (LOL sorry George 💀We all know how that ended)

Ranrok: Naww who is this- DID HE JUST KILL THAT GOBLIN?!

Professor Black: Annoying. Annoying, Annoying, Annoying. GO AWAY.

Professor Weasley: She's awesome, super sweet, and she's in Gryffindor and I'm in Gryffindor so that's nice. Oh, wait a Weasley???

Cressida Blume: She's cute. Has cute freckles.

Nellie Oggspire: I need to be her friend IMMEDIATELY.

Garreth Weasley: Oh this guys a cutie--OH SHOOT HIS LAST NAME IS WEASLEY.

Natty Onai: Her name is Natty... and mine is Matty... We now we HAVE to be best friends.

Professor Ronen: Oh, he seems like fun!

Sebastian Sallow: Woah wait why are they fighting. OH SHOOT IS THAT GINGER KID ABOUT TO DIE- Oh, never mind. Was this guy allowed to do that? Is he gonna bully me? Should I be suspicious of him? Oh, well either way he's kinda cute.

Professor Hecat: Oh, she's cool.😎

Lenora Everleigh: So cute and has a very beautiful name.

Sirona Ryan: An absolute queen. Gave me free butterbeer and she seems really considerate of the other shop keepers. Oh and she defends me so yeah absolute queen.

Victor Rookwood: Uhh who is this guy? Oh shoot wait is he supposed to be another villain? His top hat is kinda goofy ngl. Also what kind of a threat is "Can't drink butterbeer forever?". I don't know whether to be intimidated or to laugh. Maybe both?

Theophilus Harlow: MY EYEESSSSSSS! 😭😭😭 (Sorry but he looks nasty)

Professor Garlick: OH SHE CUTEEEEEEE.

Leander Prewett: Oh I HATE THIS GUY GET ME OUT OF HERE!!! SEBASTIAN SALLOW SAVE ME. PROFESSOR GARLICK HELP. (I promise I have changed my ways and I now love him)

Professor Sharp: OoOooo he looks intimidating but he is very handsome.

Amit Thakkar: CUTIE RAVENCLAW!

Andrew Larson: ANOTHER CUTIE RAVENCLAW! (throwing him in here now bc I'll tell you guys I didn't even know he had a name until like six or seven+ months ago so I got my first impression of him online LOL)

Lucan Brattleby: This kid looks fire. He's my little brother now and nobody can stop me.

Eric Northcott: He hasn't said a single word yet I do not like him. (Sorry Eric girlies)

Ominis Gaunt (1): Why does this guy keep talking to me in the hallways. Is he mad at me? WHAT DID I DO?! Oh, shoot wait is he blind? CAN HE SEE WITH HIS WAND??? DAWG THIS IS AWESOME. also he's really pretty.

Richard Jackdaw: Why does he look and sound exactly like Garreth? Is this another Weasley I don't know about?

Madam Kogawa: She looks cool. Kinda intimidates me tho and I have no idea why.

Everett Clopton: His voice is kinda annoying and we got in trouble but he did teach me how to go super fast on a broom so I'll give him that much.

Deek: AWWW I LOVE THIS GUY!!

Ominis Gaunt (2): WHY DID YOU YELL AT MEEEEE?😭IM NOT GONNA TELL ANYONE ABOUT THE UNDERCROFT I SWEAR. 😭😭

Percival Rackham: Don't like him. I don't know why but I do not like him.

Professor Howin: ...is that dodo bird actually gonna attack me or are you just saying that-

Poppy Sweeting: Aww she looks cute. She is very small but obviously that doesn't stop her from defending beasts from bullies LETS GO! Oh also she's got a cool hippogriff friend!

Imelda Reyes: Oh, I am going to beat her time by a LANDSLIDE just because she said that to me. (rivals to lovers fr)

Lodgok: Oh he seems really nice for helping us but should I be suspicious of his connections to Ranrok?

Gladwin Moon: Saw this guy earlier and he was acting weird. And now I figure out it's because of some statues. Can this school get any weirder?

pt.2 coming soon 👀